A Game of Cat and Mouse
by Caskett1960
Summary: Det. Mike Danko and his new partner, Terry Webster, begin searching for a young man who is the primary witness against his father, who is accused of felony child abuse, among other crimes.
1. An Introduction

**DISCLAIMERS: 'The Rookies' is the property of Spelling/Goldberg Productions and Sony Entertainment. No copyright infringement is intended. The story is the property of the author and may not be archived without my permission.**

 **TITLE: A Game of Cat and Mouse**

 **RATING: T for violent subject matter. This rating may change later.**

 **SETTING: September-December 1982, six years after the series has ended.**

 **SUMMARY: Det. Mike Danko and his new partner, Terry Webster, begin searching for a young man who is the primary witness against his father, who is accused of felony child abuse, among other crimes.**

 **CHAPTER 1: An Introduction**

 **A/N #1:** The beginning of this first chapter is going to serve as an introduction to the characters from the 1972-1976 police drama, 'The Rookies.' Before I wrote fan fiction for the 2009-2016 series, 'Castle,' I wrote fan fiction for this show. I wrote before I even understood that there was such a thing as fan fiction.

 **A/N #2:** I will now introduce the characters for my 'Castle' readers. My 'The Rookies' readers are already more than familiar with this cast of characters. I will give a brief rundown in the order that they appear in the opening credits.

 **Rookie Officer Terry Webster:** Terry is the quintessential somewhat militant young black man that was a staple of 70's TV. When I originally watched the show, I wasn't a fan of Terry. It was only after re-watching Season 1 that I grew to like him. He is roommates with fellow Rookie and partner, Willie Gillis, and is best friends with Mike Danko. He is also protective of Mike's wife, Jill.

 **Rookie Officer Mike Danko:** Mike is the only married officer in the group. His wife is a registered nurse. Mike is an Air Force veteran of the Vietnam war. When I was 12, I wanted to meet my own Mike Danko. In my Rookies universe, I made Mike an Army veteran because a friend told me that there weren't a lot of Air Force helicopter pilots, which is what Mike had been.

 **Rookie Officer William (Willie) Gillis (Seasons 1 & 2): **Willie is a somewhat naïve young man from a small town in Ohio. After awkwardly introducing himself to Terry in the pilot, the two men become roommates. Willie left at the end of Season 2. His character was written out of the show on the premise that he returned home to help care for his ailing father. In my stories, I have him return years later with a wife and family.

 **Rookie Officer Chris Owens (Seasons 3 & 4): **Chris became Terry's new partner when Willie exited the show. However, they didn't become roommates. I didn't like Chris, at first. Again, after re-watching re-runs, I changed my opinion slightly. There are two groups of fans of the show. Those who were Willie fans and those that were Chris fans. I know some in both groups. Let me just say that I referred to Chris as 'Cardboard Cutout Guy.'

 **Nurse Jill Danko:** Sometimes I used to think that Jill was added as a character just so someone would have to be rescued occasionally. This was also a famous theme for 70's and 80's TV. There are a number of 'Rescue Jill' episodes, most of them in the final season. But, with Mike and Jill, there was a common theme. Mike loved Jill and she loved him.

 **Lt. Eddie Ryker** : Lt. Ryker was a cross between Capt. Montgomery and Capt. Gates on 'Castle.' He had a gruff exterior which masked a decent human being. He was particularly close to Jill and Mike Danko.

 **A/N #3:** Characters that are unique to my writing are **Mary Kathryn (Mary Kate) Danko** , the young daughter of Mike and Jill. She was named for Lt. Ryker's late wife. **Jennifer (Jen) Gillis** is the wife of Willie and is the mother of his three children; Thomas, Natalie, and Eric. A woman named Jen is mentioned in a letter Mike and Jill get from Willie in the first episode of Season 3. **Michelle and Savannah Danko** are adopted by Mike and Jill after being removed from an abusive home. The story 'Fears, Secrets, and Lies' will give you their background. The two girls are not in this story. **Det. Lt. Steve Brinker** can first be found in the story 'Heat Wave.' He is also featured prominently in this story.

 **A/N #4:** Everything regarding Jill Danko's past is taken from a dear friend of mine. She gave me carte blanche in this regard, which to me, took a great deal of courage.

 **PROLOGUE: A GRISLY DISCOVERY (December)**

It was a cool, drizzly December morning. Lt. Mike Danko, and his new partner, Sgt. Terry Webster, were standing in the middle of a barren field watching men with shovels carefully digging into the soggy ground. The weather matched Mike's mood perfectly.

Terry watched Mike's expression as the men continued digging. Over the past three months, Terry had watched his friend turn from a reasonably easy-going guy into a grouchy version of his former self. And, it was all because of one man who was currently sitting in lock-up. A man by the name of Albert Mueller, who had delighted in playing cat and mouse games with the police. He had particularly enjoyed toying with Mike.

"I've found something!" One of the men shouted, breaking Terry's reverie.

Mike and Terry slogged their way through the muddy ground over to the spot where the men were digging. Looking down into the shallow pit, both men could see a blue plastic tarp. "Mueller told the D.A. that he'd wrapped Adam in a blue tarp," Terry reminded Mike.

"I know what Mueller told the D.A.," Mike snapped at his friend. "Can you bring it up?" He asked the man in the pit.

"Not quite," the man answered. "The ground keeps caving due to the dampness."

"Okay. Well, just be careful and preserve as much of the crime scene as possible," Mike ordered.

"Yes, sir," the man replied sarcastically, bending back to the task at hand. "Like I don't know how to preserve a crime scene," he muttered under his breath.

"Excuse me!" Mike shouted, striding back toward the pit. "If you have a problem with my orders, please feel free to complain to the chief!"

"Mike, come on," Terry grabbed Mike's elbow, attempting to steer his friend away from the grave. "Take it easy. You need to walk it off."

Mike shook free of Terry and walked toward the unmarked police vehicle that was parked a short distance away. This case had been eating at him for months now. They'd taken Albert Mueller into custody the day after Mike and his former partner, Lt. Steve Brinker, had been assigned the case. But the man had steadfastly refused to reveal the whereabouts of his 18-year-old stepson, Adam. Instead he had sat in his jail cell or an interrogation room, playing his endless game of 'I know something you don't know.'

Mueller, who had been a deputy with the Los Angeles Sheriff's Department, knew enough about the law to know that without a body he couldn't be charged with murder. Mike and Brinker had tried every trick in the book without success. Brinker's attitude early on in the investigation had finally forced Mike to go to his captain and request a new partner.

"Mike!" Mike turned toward the sound of Terry's voice. "They've removed the body."

"Is it him?" Mike asked, although he knew that the body in the grave couldn't be anyone but Adam Mueller.

"Yeah. We just need the M.E. to pronounce."

"I wish that I hadn't made the deal with Mueller! Because I would so love to be there to put the fucking needle in his arm myself!"

"Mike, if you hadn't made the deal, Mueller would just continue playing his games with us, especially with you. Are you okay?"

"I wish that I'd never walked into Greta Mueller's living room that day. I wish that the LASO had called someone other than the captain that day. I put my own family on the back burner to nail that piece of shit! Doing that almost cost Jill her life!"

"Mike, we've got him now. Put in for some time off," Terry suggested to his best friend and partner. "Take Jill and Mary Kate to Shasta or Whitney for a few days. Spend some time on the slopes. Take some time to heal and to help Jill heal."

"Did they say how long he's been dead?" Mike asked, ignoring Terry's suggestion.

"No. But, the M.E. said that he probably died the afternoon that he and his sister were taken by Mueller. It jives with what Mueller wrote in his statement."

"I've gotta go and talk to Greta Mueller," Mike said, walking away. "Can you get a ride back to the precinct?"

"I'm your partner, remember? Shouldn't I be going with you?"

"No, man. I started this and now I have to finish it. I'll meet you back at the stationhouse."

It was early afternoon when Mike arrived back at the precinct. Instead of going back to the detective's squad room, he made his way down to the holding cells to talk to two men he really didn't want to ever see again. One of them had been his nemesis over the past three months, while the other was a man he'd thought that he knew, and whom he'd thought had his back. A recent stormy night had shown him just how wrong he was on both counts.

Steve Brinker looked up when he heard footsteps approaching his cell. "We found the kid," Mike stopped in front of his cell. "He was right where Mueller said that he'd be."

"Good. Now, he'll go away for life. You take things too much to heart, Danko. Maybe you should transfer out of Major Crimes and work Missing Persons."

"He played us, Brinker."

"He played everybody, Danko. The only difference being that you let it get to you. If you don't learn to let things roll off you, you're going to drop dead before you're 50. Then where would your wife and kid be?" He smirked at Mike.

"I'm sorry that you destroyed what family you had, Brinker! That gave you no right to come after mine!"

"I underestimated my opponent," he continued to smirk. "She was tougher than I gave her credit for. It was a good trick, talking to you about the kid when your daughter was with you the whole time. Did you teach her that?"

"You're crazy," Mike said under his breath, turning and walking away.

Walking away, Mike thought back over the events of the past several months. Maybe Terry was right. Maybe he did need a vacation.

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	2. A New Case and A New Chapter (September)

**TITLE: A Game of Cat and Mouse—Chapter 2**

 **SUMMARY: Jill begins to feel wistful when Mary Kathryn starts school for the first time while Mike gets handed a case that tests the very limits of his sanity.**

 **A/N #1: When Chuck's niece was small, she liked to feed popsicles to her dog. It was funny to watch her, because she'd just break huge chunks off the stick and feed them to the dog. Shannon's logic was much the same as what Mary Kathryn's will be in this chapter, right down to the look. I'm not sure if I give the look justice in this chapter. It was something that you had to see.**

 **A/N #2: I'm going to make a reference to 'You Can't Do That on Television,' a children's show that aired on Nickelodeon in the early 80's. I remember watching this show with Chuck's nieces. They all found it hugely entertaining. Their mother, however, wasn't a fan.**

 **A/N #3: Also, please keep in mind that this story was set in the early 80's before car seats and seat belts were mandatory.**

 **CHAPTER 2: A New Case and a New Chapter (September)**

Mary Kathryn Danko stood in the opened doorway of what was going to be her new classroom. She was staring in wide-eyed awe at the sea of children and their parents inside the room. Many of the five and six-year-old's, as well as some of the mothers, were sobbing uncontrollably.

She looked up at her parents, who were standing just behind her, and wondered if her mother was going to cry, as well. Her friend Thomas Gillis had told her that his mother had cried on his first day of school. He'd described it as embarrassing. Mary Kathryn didn't understand what the big deal was. It wasn't like she wasn't going to be home later in the day.

"Good morning, Mary Kate; Mister and Mrs. Danko," an attractive blond in her early 20's greeted them. "Are you ready to start school, Mary Kate?"

"Can I go find my chair?" She asked, tossing her long braids over her shoulder.

"Of course. Would you like me to show you—"

"It's okay. I know how to read my name," Mary Kate arrogantly stated, not noticing her mother, Jill, biting back a groan of embarrassment.

"All right, then. You may go and find your seat," the teacher watched in amusement as Mary Kate walked over to a small table that held a piece of construction paper with her name written on it in bold black letters.

Mary Kate sat down and placed her Wonder Woman lunchbox inside her desk before looking at her parents and giving them a wave as if she were dismissing them. "She'll be fine," the teacher assured Mike and Jill. "Believe me, the first day of school is harder on the parents than it is on the kids."

"She acts like she can't wait to get rid of us," Jill complained, feeling Mike squeeze her hand.

"Some kids are like that when they start school," the teacher smiled. "Then, you get the others," she looked around the room at some children who were still sniffling and crying. "But they all settle in after a while."

"Can I tell her goodbye?"

"Jill, she's fine," Mike told her. "She knows that you're meeting her out front after school. There's nothing else you need to tell her. Come on, we need to go."

Jill felt as if she was being torn apart as Mike led her out to the parking lot where they both got into his Ford Taurus. It seemed like one day Mary Kathryn had been a baby; totally dependent on her and Mike for everything and now, suddenly, she was five years old and starting Kindergarten. It made her long for another baby once again. "You act like you're sending her to boarding school," Mike teased, starting the car. "She'll be home before you know it. Enjoy the peace and quiet. You have a day off from work and our daughter is in school. Just think. You can get things done without her being underfoot."

"Aren't you just a little sad?"

"I don't have time to be sad," he said, driving down the street toward their house. "Brinker has already paged me 703 times. So, I'm going to drop you off and get to work."

"Maybe I should start hooking Brinker up liked I used to hook up Terry and Willie," she grumbled as Mike pulled into their driveway. "He needs to get a life."

"He doesn't like dating. Hell, I don't even think he likes women," Mike turned toward his wife. "I guess that comes from being unsuccessfully married three times. Anyway, I have to go before he pages me again. I'll see you this afternoon."

"Okay," she leaned over and kissed him. "I love you. Be careful."

"I love you, too. And don't worry about Mary Kate, babe. Believe me, she's fine."

Mike waited until he was sure that Jill was safely inside the house before backing out of the driveway and going back toward the end of the street, waving at Terry Webster as he drove by his house. He wanted to get Jill out of the car before she decided to start the baby discussion again. She'd brought it up at the beginning of the summer when it finally dawned on her that her baby was going to school. She'd cried, she'd argued, she'd pleaded, but Mike's answer was a firm and resounding 'no.' He didn't want to ever again feel the fear that he'd felt two years earlier ever again.

Shortly after Mary Kate's third birthday, Jill had suffered an ectopic pregnancy. The septic shock following the miscarriage had nearly killed her. It had taken her almost a year to recover fully. There were still times when she wasn't quite her old self. Times when even the simplest of tasks drained every ounce of energy out of her.

Mike walked into the Major Case Unit 20 minutes later and was about to sit down at his desk with his cup of coffee, when his partner, Lt. Steve Brinker, entered the room. "Don't get comfortable!" He barked as Mike looked at him. "LASO's handed a case over to us. We have to go see a woman about a couple of missing kids."

"Why are we getting LASO's cases now? Don't we have enough cases of our own?" Mike grabbed his suit jacket and followed Brinker out of the building and over to their unmarked.

"The sheriff called the captain, and the captain called me. Do you have any more questions?" Brinker got behind the wheel and waited while Mike got in on the passenger side.

"How long have the kids been missing?"

"I don't know. Apparently, it's all tied up with something else that LASO is investigating involving someone else."

"It sounds mysterious," Mike looked at his partner.

"Hopefully the kids are just runaways who stayed at someone's house last night and just didn't want to start the new school year."

Mike hoped so, too, although his gut was telling him that it was something much deeper than that. They didn't get hand-me-down cases from the sheriff's office very often, but when they did get them, they were usually doozies. The last one had been a little more than a year before and had involved a guy who had hacked his parents into pieces with a hatchet. "How old are the kids?" He asked as Brinker drove toward the valley.

"I don't know. All I know is the captain handed me the case file and told me to take care of it. Speaking of kids, did you get yours off to school okay, or did you have to spend the morning drying tears?"

"I'm pleased to report that both mother and daughter survived the first day of school. Daughter more so than mother, but they're both fine."

Brinker didn't say anything more but focused on his driving. Twenty minutes later, he pulled up in front of a small brick house in a quiet neighborhood. Both men got out of the car and walked to the front door. Brinker knocked briskly on the front door. It was opened a minute later by a short, dark-haired woman in her late 30's or early 40's. "Yes?"

"Mrs. Mueller?" Brinker glanced at the file, confirming the name of the complainant. He saw her nod. "I'm Lt. Steven Brinker and this is my partner, Lt. Michael Danko. We're with the Santa Costa Police Department. I understand that—"

"I believe that my ex-husband has done something to my children," she said in heavily accented English. "Please come inside."

"What makes you think that he's done something to them?" Mike asked, as the two men followed Mrs. Mueller into the living room.

"Please sit," she pointed a finger at the nearby sofa. "May I offer either of you something to drink? Coffee, maybe?"

"That would be fine," Brinker accepted the offer, watching her quickly leave the room. Moments later, she returned, carrying a tray containing two cups of coffee, cream, and a sugar bowl. "Thank you. Now, why don't you tell us why you think that something has happened to your children?"

"My ex-husband Albert had visitation with our daughter this past weekend. He picked her up on Saturday morning. I had to work yesterday. When I got home, his car was parked in the driveway, but my son's car was gone and so were both children."

"Your son didn't go on the visitation?" Mike asked, taking notes in a small notepad.

"Adam is 18," she explained, "and Albert is actually his stepfather. He adopted Adam when he was 10. I wanted him to only have supervised visits with our daughter, but until the allegations are proven, the court has said he can see her alone."

"Excuse me, Mrs. Mueller, but could you backtrack just a bit?" Brinker and Mike both appeared puzzled. "How old is your daughter and what allegations are you talking about?"

"Didn't you talk to the sheriff's department?" Mrs. Mueller asked, feeling slightly off-put by Brinker's question.

"No, ma'am," Brinker was apologetic. "I was given the case file and told to come straight over her to speak to you."

"Lt. Brinker, my husband is a deputy with the LASO. Several months ago, my son Adam came across some pictures . . . pictures of Albert with our daughter, Erika. When Adam confronted Albert about the pictures, Albert beat Adam so badly that he put him in the hospital. When the Sheriff's Department questioned Adam in the hospital, he told them about the pictures. But, by that time, Albert had already destroyed them. So, right now he's just being investigated for felony child abuse because of the assault on Adam."

"So, Adam is the only person who can put your ex-husband with the pictures?" Mike guessed as the woman nodded. "Have you tried calling him?"

"I called him several times yesterday and again this morning. I've also gone to his apartment. He isn't there, and neither is Adam's car."

"What about relatives?"

"I've called Albert's mother, and she claims that she's neither seen or heard from him. But she'd lied for him in the past."

"What kind of car does your son drive?" Brinker asked.

"A 1976 Mustang Cobra. I'll get the information and pictures of both children," she got up, returning moments later with the information. "Here you go. I'm particularly worried about Adam. Since he found the pictures, things have been very bad between him and my ex-husband."

"We'll do our best to find both children as soon as possible. How old is Erika?" Mike looked at an obvious school picture of a little girl with long blonde hair and huge blue eyes.

"Almost nine. One thing, officers," Greta Mueller added. "When you find Albert, be very careful. He likes to play games."

"How do you mean?" Mike asked.

"I believe that the term my psychiatrist uses is 'mind games.' He thinks that he's smarter than everybody else. He'd good at pulling people into his web."

When they got back to their unmarked, Brinker put out a BOLO for the car, Albert Mueller, and the two missing kids. He also arranged for Mueller's car to be towed back to the police lab. "I have a very bad feeling about this," Brinker said, putting the car into drive, "I'm not in the mood to get into a pissing contest with some asshole who takes dirty pictures of his daughter."

Jill sighed as she looked around the quiet house. Mike was right; she could get all the little things done that she could never get done with Mary Kathryn following her around, asking her dozens of little-girl questions. But she found herself missing those endless questions.

She thought about the many baby discussions that she and Mike had had over the course of the summer. Jill had begged, she'd pleaded, at times; she'd come close to throwing a tantrum that her five-year-old would be proud of. Mike's response had remained the same. He didn't think having another baby was a good idea. She knew that most of his reasoning had to do with fear. Her doctor had even told him that he thought she could carry another child to term. But Mike couldn't be swayed. The latest argument was about how unfair it was to make Mary Kathryn stay an only child.

She walked over to the fireplace mantel and looked at the many photographs that graced it. Her favorite was one that she'd taken at Lake Tahoe the previous winter. Two identical grins looked at her from under hooded parkas. Mary Kathryn had Mike's eyes, his smile, and lately, the same look of irritation when one tried to reason with her. Yes, she was 100% her father's daughter. Mike's mother had even commented about it on more than one occasion.

On their way back to the precinct, Brinker and Mike stopped at the Valley Services Division of The Los Angeles Sheriff's Office to speak to Mueller's immediate superior. They were met by Lt. Clemmons, who waved both detectives toward chairs in his small, cramped office. "What can you tell us regarding the investigation of Albert Mueller?" Brinker asked.

"It's all there in the file that I sent to your captain this mornin'," Clemmons appeared irritated by the question.

"Why don't you tell me, anyway, and save me from having to read it? I dislike reruns."

Clemmons walked over to his file cabinet and opened it. He rifled through the contents until he found the file he was seeking. "Back in . . . let me see . . . March, I got a call from the emergency room doc at Cedars Sinai Hospital. He told me that Mueller's son, Adam, was in the hospital, and he was suspecting child abuse. I sent a couple of deputies to investigate. When they questioned the kid . . . Adam . . . he told them that he'd found some nasty pictures of his dad with his younger sister. He told the deputies that when he confronted his dad, they got into a fight. It was a case of assault, not child abuse. However, because the doc issued a complaint, we had to report it."

"Did your deputies ask Mueller about the pictures?" Mike asked.

"They did. Mueller told them that the kid was full of shit."

"Did you even look into the accusation?" Mike looked at Brinker, wondering why his partner wasn't asking these questions.

"Again, we interviewed Mueller. Again, he denied that the pictures existed. However, we did get a search warrant, and we did search the Mueller residence. We didn't find any pictures, or any evidence of any kind that there was any abuse going on."

"How seriously were Adam's injuries?" Brinker asked.

"He had some bruised ribs, and a broken nose. I believe that he was released from the hospital either the same day he was injured or the next day."

Mike couldn't believe the attitude of Lt. Clemmons. "You know what? You're unbelievable! Why in the hell would a kid make up a story like that if it didn't happen?"

"Look, detective—"

"Lieutenant," Mike corrected him. "I took the test and worked hard for my rank, just like I'm sure you did."

" _Lieutenant_ , Mueller and his ex old lady both told me that he and the kid had been tangling with each other for years. It got worse after the girl was born. Mueller claimed that Adam was jealous of his sister. Maybe the pictures were really of Adam and his sister. Who knows? All that I do know is this; pending the outcome of the investigation, Mueller is still a member of this department. He probably just kept the kids because he knew that it'd get a rise out of the old lady."

"There's just one problem with that," Brinker looked at his notes. "Adam didn't go with his stepfather on Saturday when he came to pick up his daughter. And, another thing. Why would Mueller leave his car and take his stepson's?"

"I don't know. Have you checked his car?" Clemmons asked, his tone sarcastic and condescending.

"Our lab is in the process of doing that now," Mike answered.

"Then, I don't know what else I can tell you," Clemmons stood up and walked to his door, indicating that the meeting was over.

"Well, thanks for your time and cooperation," Brinker's tone was also sarcastic as the two detectives left the building.

"What now?" Mike asked as he and Brinker walked back to their unmarked.

"Let's go back to the precinct and get started on our reports," Brinker suggested. "Who knows? Maybe he's already brought the kids home and we just don't know it, yet."

"You do realize that they're probably covering up for him?" Mike pointed out, referring to Lt. Clemmons.

"We've all done it, Danko. Hell, I've even heard that you've done it. Remember Luke Harris?" Brinker looked across the seat at Mike before starting the car. "People who live in glass houses—"

Mike didn't respond to Brinker's remark. Luke Harris had almost cost Mike his job and it still pained him to remember that. "I just don't understand why a whole department would cover up for an obvious scumbag."

"Maybe because he's a good cop," Brinker noticed the look of disgust that Mike gave him. "I mean, I'm an obnoxious scumbag, but I can still get the job done. Danko, this is the part of the conversation where you're supposed to disagree with me."

"I will, just as soon as you say something that I disagree with," Mike bantered back as Brinker roared with laughter.

"When do you do go court on the Von Trapp family shoplifters?" Brinker changed the subject as Mike made another face. "What? What kind of a family uses their kids to help them steal?"

"I have a better question. What kind of a family steals with a police officer shopping with his own family in the very next aisle?"

"Hey, you weren't in uniform. You could've been a meter reader, for all they knew."

Mike laughed, remembering the day a month before when he and Jill had been shopping for school clothes for Mary Kate. In the very next aisle, a family of five, including two parents and three young children, were busy stealing as much as they could. "I've heard of family togetherness, but there are times when you just have to draw the line."

"And, to think that they got busted by a five-year-old," Brinker laughed. "Did you ever steal anything when you were a kid?"

"I think every kid tries it at least once. But my father and mother didn't put me up to it. As a matter of fact, when I got caught, I couldn't sit for a week after my father got done with me. Do you think Mueller still has the pictures?" Mike changed the subject back to the missing father.

"If he's a pervert, as his wife and stepson have suggested, the pictures are still around somewhere. These guys like having their little mementos and trophies close so that they can go back and relive the experience. In my opinion, they should all be castrated and put on a deserted island somewhere."

"You won't get an argument from me about that idea," Mike agreed.

At 2:45 Jill was standing outside of the elementary school waiting for the dismissal bell to ring. As if on cue, the doors flew opened wide and a sea of children came running out, all screaming and talking at once. She smiled when she finally spotted her own small daughter in the bunch. "Mommy!" Mary Kathryn exclaimed, flying into her mother's arms and hugging her tight around the waist.

Jill smiled at the endearment. She was rarely 'mommy.' For as long as she could remember, she'd always been 'mom.' Even when Mary Kathryn was very small, 'mommy' was a word that she rarely used. "Did you have a good day?" Jill took Mary Kathryn's hand and began walking toward her 1970 Camaro.

"I have papers for you and my daddy to sign."

"I'll look at them when we get home," Jill opened the driver's side door and started the pull the seat forward for Mary Kathryn to climb into the back seat.

"Can I ride in front?" The little girl begged. "I promise that I won't tell my daddy."

Mike didn't like Mary Kathryn riding in the front seat of either of their cars. His reasoning was that she'd be safer in the back seat in the event of an accident. But Jill would sometimes allow it, especially when they weren't going far. "All right," she smiled as she watched Mary Kathryn cross the center console to the passenger seat.

"Can I have a popsicle?" Mary Kathryn asked when they walked into the house a few minutes later.

"As soon as you change clothes," Jill answered as she watched her daughter heading for the stairs. "Put your dirty clothes in the hamper, please."

"I will," she promised, taking the stairs two at a time to her bedroom.

Jill was busy in the kitchen, preparing a chicken to go in the oven for dinner when Mary Kathryn reappeared moments later, dressed in a pair of shorts and a matching shirt, a pair of pink flip flops on her feet. "What color popsicle do you want?" She opened the freezer.

"Purple," the little girl chimed, watching her mother take the cold treat from the freezer and removing the wrapper. "I'm going to see Seven now. Do you think that he missed me?"

"Mary Kathryn, I'm sure that he did." After all, the black Labrador Retriever adored his little mistress as much as she clearly adored him. Jill watched Mary Kathryn walk over to the sliding glass door and flip up the latch. " _Do not_ share that popsicle with the dog. You heard what the vet told me and daddy."

"But mom, he likes them," Mary Kathryn insisted as she gave Jill her father's best look. "It's not like I'm giving him chocolate."

Mary Kathryn turned and opened the door, smiling when Seven came running up to her. She then ran over to the huge tree on the other side of the yard as he dutifully followed her. She and her best friend Thomas had learned that nobody could see them from the kitchen window when they sat by the tree.

Jill glanced out of the kitchen window over the sink before she went back to seasoning the chicken. When Mary Kathryn left her field of sight, she sighed because she knew exactly what she was doing. She was sharing her popsicle with the dog. It had been an ongoing battle for as long as Jill could remember. It had all started when Mary Kathryn was no more than two years old, shortly after they'd gotten the puppy from a neighbor. Jill would send her daughter, and sometimes Thomas Gillis, when he was there, outside with popsicles.

One day, Jill happened to notice that her daughter was breaking huge chunks of the cold treat off the stick and feeding them to the dog. When they'd talked to the vet about it, the doctor had agreed that while the sugar wasn't necessarily good for the dog, it probably wouldn't kill him.

Jill just worried that it would lead to Seven taking other foods away from the kids. So far, that had never happened. And the dog never tried to take the popsicles from the kids. Mary Kathryn had always hand fed them to him.

Outside, Mary Kathryn and the dog were sitting under the tree near the swing set. Looking toward the house to make sure that her mother couldn't see her, she broke off a piece of the popsicle and offered it to Seven, who grabbed it up eagerly. "I had to go to school," she explained to the dog. "That's why I wasn't here. It's kind of like when you went to school. Only I already know how to sit and stuff like that. The teacher liked that I can already spell my name. She's a very nice teacher."

While the chicken was cooking, Jill sat at the kitchen table and looked over the papers that Mary Kathryn had brought home from school. She set aside the ones' requiring hers' and Mike's signatures and focused instead on the notes that the teacher had sent home reporting on Mary Kathryn's first day of school. She smiled when she read some of the notes, although she was positive that her husband would have a different reaction. She glanced up when she heard the garage door coming up. She opened the sliding glass door and looked outside. "Mary Kathryn, daddy's home!" She made a face when her daughter came charging up to the house, her once pristine clothes covered in purple stains, as were her face and hands. "You're a mess!"

"Hey, is anybody home?" Mike called out, walking into the house from the garage.

"Daddy!" Mary Kate raced up to him as he scooped her up into his arms.

"Mike, she's sticky," Jill warned, smiling when he walked over and kissed her. "And now, so are you."

"That's okay. She'll wash and so will I," he kissed her once again before adjusting Mary Kate on his hip. "How long until dinner? Terry wants to go for a run."

"About an hour. You're going for a run now?"

"It was a rough day," he put Mary Kate on the floor. "I won't be long."

Mike went upstairs and changed into his running clothes before coming back downstairs and grabbing Seven's leash from a hook by the back door. He then opened the door and let out a shrill whistle for the dog. Seven eagerly ran into the house and sat obediently while Mike clipped the leash to his collar and led him through the house and out the front door. "Why does my daddy take Seven with him when he goes running with Terry?" Mary Kathryn wanted to know, climbing onto a stool to watch her mother finish preparing their dinner.

"So, they'll be safe," Jill began cutting up carrots. "Do you want some carrots?"

"Can I have a cookie instead, Jill?"

"I'm mom and no, it's too close to dinner. Here," she pushed some carrot batons in front of her daughter.

"If somebody messes with my daddy and Terry, why don't they just shoot them?" Mary Kathryn crunched on a carrot.

"Because, they can't."

"No. It's because they don't take their guns with them when they go running," Mary Kathryn pointed out as her mother looked at her. "Can I watch TV?"

"You can watch 'Sesame Street' until daddy gets home from his run."

"But I want to watch Nickelodeon," Mary Kathryn whined, jumping off the barstool.

"Mary Kathryn, you may watch 'Sesame Street' or you can go to your room and play. Those are your choices," Jill gave her daughter her best 'mom' look.

Mary Kathryn left the room, leaving her mother to shake her head in bewilderment. Television watching in the Gillis' household was much laxer than it was in the Danko home. Jill had picked Mary Kathryn up one evening from Willie and Jennifer's to find her daughter and Thomas watching a program entitled 'You Can't Do That On Television.' After watching for a few minutes, Jill couldn't understand what Mary Kathryn and Thomas found so funny. The show was a series of sketches featuring children aged nine to 13. The highlight to both children seemed to consist of buckets of colored goo being dumped on the heads of the show's characters. This happened anytime the words 'water' or 'wet' was mentioned. To Jill, it was disgusting. To the two children, it was hilarious.

Mike and Terry were jogging on the side of the street while Seven kept pace between them. "I think I could've used this dog when we were in the academy," Terry panted as he glanced at his friend. "You, me, and Willie need to get together for lunch."

"Brinker keeps me pretty busy," Mike said as they approached the park. "We got handed another ugly case. You know what that probably means."

"Does it involve kids?" Terry asked as they jogged toward a nearby picnic table. "Let's take five before we head back. So, does it? Involve kids, I mean?"

"Yeah."

"Mike, the guy doesn't like kids," Terry reminded Mike as they sat down. "He'll leave all the crap to you just like he's done the other dozen or so times you've had cases involving kids. I'm surprised that the captain hasn't caught on to his tricks by now."

"He's been a cop for a long time," Mike made excuses for his partner. "And he is a good detective."

"Yeah, a good detective who doesn't want to work with kids. You can't pick and choose what aspects of the case that you want to work. Hell, I'm a rookie detective and I know that. So, what did the guy do?"

"Hopefully, nothing. It's just that he's pulled a vanishing act with his two kids. He's accused of beating the shit out of one of them. I just have a really bad feeling."

"Well, let's hope that he turns up with the kids safe and sound. So, how was Mary Kate's first day of school?" Terry grinned at his best friend.

"For a while, I wasn't sure Jill was going to survive it," Terry laughed. "She keeps bringing up the baby conversation."

"Mike, I know that you're scared about a repeat performance of what happened the last time, but I don't think that'll happen again."

"Everybody keeps telling me that, and deep down, I know that's probably true. I just can't help thinking back—"

"I know. Look, I'm not saying give in, although Lord knows, where Jill is concerned, you're putty in her hands. Just listen to her. Women have that crazy biological clock."

"Are you saying that Serena wants a kid," Mike said, referring to Terry's live-in girlfriend of the past two years.

"We've talked about it a few times," Terry admitted. "But she works with so many abused and neglected kids, it makes it hard to think about having one of our own. Come on, we'd better head back before Jill comes hunting me down."

Back at the house, Jill was simmering vegetables on the stove when Mary Kathryn came back and climbed back on her barstool. "Mom, can we get a monkey?"

Jill was amused at how her small daughter's brain jumped from subject to subject without any rhyme or reason. "We already have a monkey," Jill reached for a bowl over the sink. "Her name is Mary Kathryn."

"Mom, I'm serious. You won't even have to buy it any clothes or shoes. She can wear my old clothes and shoes. She can even sleep in my room. Please?"

"I'll tell you what," Jill walked over to the counter and leaned on it, facing her daughter. "Why don't you ask daddy when he gets home from his run?"

"If he says yes, can we get one?"

"If he says yes, then he and I will discuss it."

"Mom . . . " she started to complain when she heard the front door open and close. "I'll go ask my daddy right now!" She jumped off her barstool and ran into Mike, who was unclipping Seven from his leash. "Daddy, can we get a monkey? Mom said that I have to ask you!"

"You actually told her to ask me if she can get a monkey?" He looked at his wife in disbelief before he walked over to the back door and opened it, releasing Seven back into the yard.

"Will you just humor her?" Jill said in a loud whisper as Mike bit back a grin.

"I'm going to go and take a shower," he closed and locked the sliding door. "I'll think about the monkey while I'm in the shower."

"Mary Kathryn, go wash your face and hands, and then come back down here to help me set the table," Jill ordered, taking plates from the cabinet.

"If I get a monkey, I'll be the most famous kid in school!" Mary Kathryn crowed as she ran from the room.

From experience, Jill knew that the idea of getting a monkey was a passing fancy. With a bit of distraction, she knew that she and Mike could make her forget all about it. After dinner, Mike would take her outside and they'd play for a while before bath time. In that brief time, she'd be so busy tumbling across the yard that she'd forget about the monkey. "Are they clean enough?" Mary Kathryn stood in front of her mother and showed her dripping hands.

"Mary Kathryn, there is a towel hanging in the bathroom. Please start using it. The plates and silverware are on the table. Set the table. I have to go talk to daddy."

Mary Kathryn walked over and carefully took the plates, placing one in front of each of their places. She then put the silverware beside each plate along with a napkin.

Mike was standing in the shower when he heard the bathroom door open. "I'll be down in a few minutes!" He called out over the sound of the water.

"Mike, she's feeding popsicles to the dog again!" Jill perched on the edge of the vanity.

"Do we have to talk about this right now?" He stuck his head out of the shower door.

"When else can we talk about it? In the mornings before Brinker beckons you? At night, when we're both exhausted? When I tell her not to do it, Mary Kathryn gives me that look like she thinks that I'm dumber than dirt."

"Mary Kate does not think that," he turned off the water and stepped out of the tub, smiling when Jill handed him a towel. "I will talk to her, okay?"

"Thank you," she kissed him. "Dinner will be on the table when you come down."

"Good, because I'm starving," he began drying off.

Jill came downstairs and looked the dinner table over. In the past few months, she and Mike had given Mary Kathryn several small chores to do, one of them being setting the dinner table. "Did I do okay, mom?" Mary Kathryn asked, pulling out her chair to sit down.

"Yes, but you don't sit down until daddy comes to the table. Come and help me," Jill ordered, walking to the kitchen counter and handed her daughter a small serving bowl. "Be careful, please."

Mike came downstairs just as Jill and Mary Kate were putting the last of the food on the table. After he sat down, he took his daughter's plate and placed a small slice of roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, and a few Brussels Sprouts. "Do you want gravy?" She nodded. "On your chicken, potatoes, or both?"

"Both, please."

"Do you need me or mom to cut your chicken or do you think that you can handle it?"

"I'll do it," Mary Kate answered as Mike put her plate down in front of her. "Mom, when will you cook a vegetable that I like? I hate Brussels Sprouts! I only like them when Mamie cooks them."

"Mary Kathryn, your grandmother isn't coming over just to make Brussels Sprouts the way that you like them. Stop complaining and eat," Jill commanded, watching her daughter pick up her fork and start to eat. "How was your run with Terry?" She asked as she began to eat her own dinner.

"Okay. As usual, he was complaining about Brinker again."

"Mike, not in front of . . . " she nodded toward their daughter. They had agreed a long time before not to discuss certain topics in front of Mary Kathryn, since, like most children do, she had a habit of repeating what she had heard. Often to the wrong people.

Listening to her parents discuss their day, Mary Kathryn continued eating. After finishing her chicken and mashed potatoes, she was left with the dreaded Brussels Sprouts. She knew from experience that neither parent would let her up from the dinner table until they were gone. Making a face, she moved her fork over the small cabbages. To her, they looked like cabbages for Barbie dolls. She didn't realize as she moved the fork over the vegetables that she was making car noises with her mouth.

Mike was in the middle of his conversation when he noticed that he no longer had his wife's undivided attention. He glanced to his right at his daughter, who was moving her vegetables around her plate, all the while making motor noises with her mouth. He bit back laughter as he watched Jill, who was leaning on her hand, waiting until she had attracted Mary Kathryn's attention.

Mary Kathryn suddenly noticed that her parents were no longer talking to each other. Looking across the table, she froze when she saw her mothers' dark brown eyes firmly fixed on her. "Mary Kathryn, how many Brussels Sprouts did your daddy give you?"

"Five," Mary Kathryn answered in a small voice.

"Mary Kathryn, there is no Brussels Sprouts fairy. Just like there is no spinach fairy and no pea's fairy. No one is going to just magically appear and eat your vegetables for you. So, you might as well stop doing whatever it is that you're doing and eat them. Because you're not leaving this table until you do." She looked to her left at Mike, who was trying hard not to burst out laughing. She knew that if he did, then their daughter would, too. "Michael, would you stop? My God, sometimes you're as bad as she is."

"Finish your dinner, Mary Kate," Mike pointed to his daughter's plate.

"Oh, you're _so_ scary," Jill rolled her eyes as she finished her own dinner.

Once dinner was done, Mike took Mary Kate to the backyard to play before bath time while Jill cleaned the kitchen. They threw a Frisbee for Seven for a short time before making their way over to the swing set. "Mom told me that you were sharing your popsicle with Seven," Mike said, sitting on the swing beside his daughter. "What have we told you about that?"

"Daddy, he likes them."

"Sweetie, I know that he likes them, but they're not good for him." Mike tried reasoning with his small progeny. "Would mom and I let you eat a lot of sugar?"

"No."

"Well, it's the same thing with Seven. Popsicles aren't good for him. And, I want you to listen to me," he said. "Mary Kathryn, look at me."

The little girl looked at her father. He never called her Mary Kathryn unless he meant serious business. "When your mom tells you to do something, you mind her. You don't give her dirty looks and you don't answer back. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir," her lower lip trembling.

"Come on, you can practice your tumbling before you have to go in," he told her as they got off the swings and moved to the middle of the yard.

"I can do a round-off to a back handspring," Mary Kate boasted, demonstrating the skill while Mike watched her.

"Keep your legs straight," he instructed her.

Jill had enrolled Mary Kate in gymnastics and dance after complaining to Mike that he and the guys were turning her into a tomboy with the almost non-stop watching of football, baseball, basketball, and hockey. They had reached a compromise that allowed Mike and the guys to take her to sporting events as long as Mary Kate was forced to act like a girl at least occasionally. The past spring, piano lessons had been added, thanks to Mike's mother, who instructed her granddaughter one afternoon a week and every Saturday morning.

After bathing her, reading her a story, and putting her to bed, Jill came downstairs shortly after eight o'clock, collapsing on the sofa beside Mike, who was reading over the Mueller case file. "So, do I want to know about your new case?" She asked, looking at him.

"Hopefully, by this time tomorrow, I won't have a case," he told her, explaining the basics of the case to her.

"Do you think he's hurt the kids?"

"I don't know. I hope not."

"Well, in any case, Mary Kathryn's waiting for you to go upstairs and kiss her goodnight," she smiled, watching him place the case file on the coffee table and get up from the sofa.

But her smile vanished as she watched him go up the stairs to their daughter's room. She hated cases that involved kids. She didn't like what they did to Mike. As of late, she'd also found herself really disliking Steve Brinker. He had an annoying habit of pawning most investigations over to Mike, leaving the most mundane parts of the investigation for himself. Yet, he was more than happy to take his share of the credit when another bad guy had been put away.

He'd also page Mike a million times with the most nitpicky of details; details that could easily wait until working hours. He especially took great delight in doing this when he knew that Mike had made plans with her or with Mary Kathryn. Jill knew that a detective, especially one in Major Crimes, was never truly off the clock, but Brinker took this to a whole new level. It had put a strain on their marriage and had even given Mike an ulcer after their last case.

Jill had begged Mike to go to his captain and request a new partner, but Mike was too nice of a guy to do it. And, now, Terry and Willie were complaining about Brinker, as well.

Mary Kate was sitting up in bed when Mike entered her room. "Daddy, I have decided that you and mom don't have to buy me a monkey. I'll ask Mamie and Poppy," her eyes were bright with excitement at the idea.

"Why do you think that Mamie and Poppy would buy you a monkey?" He asked, although knowing his parents where their precious granddaughter was concerned, they'd probably rush right out and buy her a gorilla.

"Daddy, it could sleep in my room and wear my clothes. It would be like having a sister. Daddy, everybody has a sister but me."

"Sweetie, I know that you want a sister. Look, it's late. Lay down under the covers," he waited until she had scrunched down in her bed before covering her up, tucking the blankets around her. "Sweet dreams. I'll see you in the morning," he kissed her on the forehead before leaving her room, pulling the door behind him.

Once downstairs, he once again sat beside his wife. "She's going to ask my parents to buy her a monkey."

"I thought she had forgotten about that," Jill groaned.

"She's lonely and she said that everybody has a sister except her. Jill, you know how much it scares me," he said, referring to another pregnancy.

"I know, but it's not just the thought of having any baby," she smiled and took his hand, tangling her fingers in his. "It's the thought of having _your_ baby."

"I'm still not 100% on board, but I'm open to negotiations," he smiled when she squealed and hugged him around the neck as tightly as she could. "Hey, not right now! The kid's barely asleep!"

The phone started ringing early the next morning. "Your other old lady is calling you," Jill grumbled, rolling over and facing her husband. "That's the cop line, not the house line."

After Mike had become a detective, it had become necessary to install a second phone line into the house. "What time is it?" He blindly began reaching for the phone.

"Too early for your mistress to be calling," Jill buried her head deeper into her pillow. "Answer it before he wakes up Mary Kathryn. Not that he cares about that."

"Would you give it a rest? It's too damn early in the morning," he finally managed to reach the receiver. "Brinker, this had better be good."

"Anaheim police picked up Mueller at 2:30 this morning."

"What about the kids?" Mike sat up, turning on the bedside lamp, causing Jill to curse and throw her pillow at him.

"The girl is with her grandmother. Her mother is on her way to pick her up now. He didn't have the boy with him, and he refuses to say anything about his whereabouts."

"Is he back in Santa Costa?"

"He should be in our lockup in about an hour."

"Has he asked for a lawyer?"

"Not as far as I know. I just wanted to bring you up to speed. I figured that you'd want to talk to the girl. What is her name again?"

"Erika," Mike knew that if Brinker had bothered to read his notes, he'd know what her name was. "Why can't you talk to her?"

"Kids don't like me, Danko. You know that."

"You mean, you don't like kids," Mike shot back as Jill sat up and looked at him. "I'll meet you at the Mueller house in an hour."

"Let me get this straight," Jill watched her husband get out of bed and start getting dressed. "He's already at the precinct, but he pulls you out of bed at . . . five in the morning because he doesn't want to question a kid?" Jill was incredulous as Mike continued stumbling around their bedroom half asleep.

"I'm better at it than he is."

I'm beginning to really dislike your partner."

"Yeah, well, that makes two of us. Go back to sleep. I'll call you at lunchtime," he kissed her.

"I have departmental meetings all morning. I'll call you when I'm done. Mike?" She called out to him as he turned from his chest of drawers. "Do you think he's killed the boy?"

"Yeah, I do. They picked the father up in Anaheim. I doubt he was taking him to Disneyland. I just wonder where he dumped his body."

 **A/N #4: Again, for my 'Castle' readers. Santa Costa is a fictional town in Southern California.**

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	3. Let the Games Begin

**TITLE: A Game of Cat and Mouse—Chapter 3**

 **SUMMARY: Mike meets the man who will make his life hell for the next few months. Jill begins to have second thoughts about being a working mother after Mary Kathryn suffers a horrible accident in gymnastics class. Mike also begins setting the wheels in motion to end his partnership with Steve Brinker.**

 **A/N #1: When my muse, Chuck's, niece was five years old, she had a terrible accident in gymnastics class. This accident resulted in her having to have jaw surgery two years later. This poor kid looked she had gone 10 rounds with Muhammed Ali and lost when it was all said and done.**

 **Chapter 2: Let the Games Begin**

It was almost 5:45 in the morning when Mike pulled up behind Brinker's car, which was parked at the curb in front of the Mueller home. Brinker exited his car when he saw Mike's headlights behind him. "You couldn't start without me?" Mike was irritated at his partner.

"We're partner," Brinker reminded him when they started up the walk.

"The last time I looked, we weren't joined at the hip."

Brinker knocked on the door. It was several minutes before Greta Mueller answered the door. "What do you want? Erika is asleep."

"Mrs. Mueller, I apologize for the hour, but we need to talk to Erika," Mike informed her.

"Now? She's exhausted. I've already spoken to her. She doesn't know where her father or Adam are."

"Mrs. Mueller, the Anaheim police picked your ex-husband up three hours ago. Adam wasn't with him," Brinker told her. "It's important that we speak to your daughter. We need to find out what she knows."

"Lieutenant, I have already told you that Erika does not know anything. She was so tired that she couldn't keep her eyes opened. I had to carry her into the house when I brought her home. I am taking her to the doctor first thing in the morning. Can't you talk to her then?"

"Mrs. Brinker, either you let us talk to your daughter right now or I'll have you slapped with an obstruction charge! Then your daughter will be in the custody of social services. Now, do you want that?" Brinker demanded, his voice rising from the front porch.

"Mrs. Mueller, would you excuse us for just one minute?" Mike grabbed his partner by the elbow and guided him back toward their cars. "Brinker, what in the hell are you doing?"

"Trying to talk to her kid. What does it look like I'm doing?"

"You're honestly trying to get an uncooperative mother to cooperate by putting her in jail and having her daughter taken away from her? Do you really think that's going to make her want to cooperate with us? Has antagonizing a witness ever really worked for you?"

"All right, smart ass, do you have a better idea?" Brinker challenged Mike, his eyes blazing in the darkness.

"I have a lot of better ideas," Mike muttered as they walked back to the front door where Mrs. Mueller was still standing. "Mrs. Mueller, we want to find Adam. Right now, the only way that we're possibly going to do that is by talking to Erika. I know that you've talked to her, but sometimes parents don't ask the right questions. Erika might think that she doesn't know anything, but even the smallest thing could help us a lot right now. Please let me talk to her? I promise that I'll make it as quick as possible."

"You don't understand. She was so sleepy when I brought her home. Her grandmother said that she slept all afternoon."

"Can I see her? I promise that I won't take more than five minutes."

"Very well. Come in," she opened the door for Mike to enter.

Mike was looking around the small living room when Mrs. Mueller reappeared with Erika. The little girl was dressed in a summer nightgown, her hair mussed from sleep. "I don't want to get up, yet," she whined as her mother guided her to a nearby armchair.

"Erika, my name is Lt. Mike Danko, and I promise that you can go back to sleep as soon as I'm finished. I need to ask you a few questions about your brother Adam. Is that okay? Can you look at me, please?" The little girl tried to focus her blue eyes on Mike. When she did, Mike knew the answer to one of his questions. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused, and it wasn't from sleep. "Do you remember your daddy coming to pick Adam up on Sunday?"

"He didn't pick Adam up," Erika argued. "He told me that we were going to go to the zoo. He bought me orange juice. Then I got sleepy. When I woke up, mommy was picking me up at Nana's."

"So, you never saw Adam on Sunday?"

"No. Adam was here when daddy picked me up on Saturday. Isn't Adam asleep in his room?" The little girl was clearly puzzled that her brother wasn't at home.

"Erika, thank you for talking to me. You can go back to bed now," Mike smiled as her mother led her from the room, returning moments later. "When you take her to the doctor, ask him to do a blood draw."

"Do you think that Albert drugged her?"

"I know that he did."

"What do I tell Erika when she starts asking about Adam. She's very close to her brother."

"Tell her that Adam's with her daddy. Right now, she doesn't need to know more than that. Have the doctor send the results to this address," Mike handed her one of his cards.

"Are you going to talk to Albert now?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Be careful, Lt. Danko," she warned him once more. "Do not fall for his tricks. He has a lot of them."

Brinker was standing by his car when Mike came out of the house. "Did the kid tell you anything?"

"Her name is Erika and the son of a bitch drugged her. She isn't even aware that he took Adam. Let's go to the precinct."

"Danko! What crawled up you and died?" Brinker asked.

"Right now, you have. Let me ask you something," Mike got into Brinker's face. "Was it really necessary to wake me _and_ my wife to tell me something that easily could've waited a couple of hours? I mean, it wasn't like a nine-year-old girl was going to flee the country."

"Wives get pissed, Danko. It's a fact of life. Yeah, I thought that it was necessary. We've got a missing kid. Calling you two hours early is two hours we could use in finding the kid . . . excuse me. Adam. If I pissed off your old lady, send her some flowers or candy. Because I really don't want to hear about it."

Mike got into his car and slammed the car door before he started the engine. Brinker had been married three times, so he didn't understand the concept of men who had good marriages. But in the last three years, Mike could feel his own marriage going on a downhill spiral, and most of it was due to his current partner.

Maybe Jill was right. Maybe it was time to go to the captain and request a new partner. Terry was working Grand Theft Auto. He was wondering if the captain would transfer him to Major Crimes. After all, they'd worked well together when they were patrolmen. Terry and Willie were family. Brinker had shown, time and again, that he couldn't be family, and he never would be.

When they walked into the precinct, the desk sergeant flagged Mike down. "Danko, Freddie in the lab called! He wants you to come and see him as soon as you can. He said that he found something in Adam Mueller's car, whatever that's supposed to mean."

"Thanks, Sarge," Mike said.

"Why does McIntire never want to talk to me?" Brinker complained. "After all, I am the senior detective."

Mike didn't answer; he just gave Brinker a strange look before making his way down the corridor that led to the lab. He entered the lab and made his way over to the Mustang and the man in the white lab coat. "Freddie, my boy!" Mike called out. "Tell me something that I don't already know!"

"When I was in fourth grade, an older kid in karate class made me cry," the lab tech came out from inside of the car.

"Not exactly what I had in mind, Freddie. Tell me about the car."

"Oh, you want to know about the car," Freddie walked around to the trunk, beckoning for Mike to follow him. "If Adam Mueller isn't dead, yet, he will be soon."

Mike looked down into the blood-soaked interior of the Mustang's trunk. "Oh, boy," he sighed. "Are you sure that it's Adam's blood?"

"Well, I don't have anything to compare it to, but my guess is that it is. Have you talked to his old man?"

"Not yet. I was heading that way when I got your message."

"I'm still processing the car, but I wanted you to see this. I'll let you know if I find anything else."

"Thanks, Freddie. If I'm not there, you can give your findings to Brinker."

"Why? So, he can just hand them over to you or to one of the green detectives? No, thank you. I'll wait until you're available."

Mike glanced at his watch when he left the lab. It was a little after seven, too early to go and talk to the captain. Instead, he went to Holding and asked to have Albert Mueller brought to an interrogation room.

He was sitting at a table in Interrogation when an officer entered, leading a man in his early 40's by the arm. Albert Mueller was about Mike's height, 6'1, with graying brown hair and hazel eyes. The officer pushed him into a chair and handcuffed his shackled wrist to a ring in the table top. "Let me know when you're done," the officer told Mike, who nodded in reply.

"I'm Det. Lt. Danko and I'm going to advise you of your rights," Mike began. "You have the right to remain silent—" 

"I've been a deputy sheriff for 10 years," Mueller shot back. "I think that I should know my rights by now. I waive them, okay?"

"Sign this," Mike shoved the Miranda card as well as a waiver form toward Mueller, who scrawled his signature on it before sliding it back toward Mike. "Where's your son?"

"I don't have a son," Mueller leaned his chair back and slowly rocked it as he sized up Mike. Glancing at him, he smiled when he noticed a tattoo on the back of Mike's hand. "Vietnam, huh? I noticed your tattoo."

"We're not here to talk about Vietnam. Where's your son?" Mike repeated the question.

"I already told you that I don't have a son." Mueller set the chair back onto all four legs, leaning forward toward Mike. "What're you holding me for, anyway?"

"Right now, custodial interference. But by the end of the day, I'm sure that we'll be adding murder and kidnapping."

"I didn't interfere with custody. I have visitation with my daughter. It's in my divorce papers. As for the murder and kidnapping charges, who is my supposed victim?"

"Your stepson. Your ex-wife told me and my partner that when she came home from work on Sunday, your stepson, Adam, and his car were both gone. How do you explain the Anaheim police picking you up this morning in his car?"

"I'm not going to tell you again, Det. Lt. Danko, that I don't have a son or a stepson. I admit that I did at one time. I mean, Adam wasn't really my son, but I helped raise him since he was seven years old. I adopted him when he was 10. I felt that he really was my son. As for how I got his car, I gave the car to him. So technically, that makes it my car. I giveth and so I also taketh away."

"Was Adam aware that you were taking his car away?"

"Not until I showed up and did it. I admit that he wasn't particularly pleased with the idea. We had words about it, as a matter of fact."

"Did your exchange become physical?"

"Do you have kids, Danko?" Mueller dodged the question as he carefully watched Mike's face. "Yeah, I figured that you probably did. You look like a family man. There is nothing more special in this world than the relationship between a father and his little girl. Adam was telling everybody lies about me. I love my little girl, and she adores me. Adam was trying to make it seem like there was something . . . nasty going on."

"Why did you drug Erika, then? If all you wanted to do was go to the house and take Adam's car, why the need to make sure that Erika wasn't awake?"

"Erika gets very upset when Adam and I fight. She's a very sensitive child. I didn't want to upset her. So, I put some Benadryl in her orange juice. It was harmless."

"So, you and Adam exchanged words. When did the gun come into play?"

"Who said that there was a gun?" Mueller once again leaned his chair back. "You know that you can only hold me for 48 hours before you have to charge me with something more than custodial interference. When I step in front of a judge in about . . . two hours, he's going to set me free. I mean, I am an upstanding member of the community. I'm a decorated member of the Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department."

"I wouldn't worry. I'm sure that we'll be charging you with murder in the first degree as soon as the D.A. sees pictures of the trunk of your son's car."

"There's no body," Mueller boasted. "Adam could've had a nosebleed for all you know. But you know what? I like you. I think that I'd like to talk to you again."

"Oh, we'll be talking again all right." Mike got up and walked over to the door, rapping on the door. "But I can't say that I like you. Right now, you're on about the same level to me as a cockroach."

It was a little after 6:30 when Jill made her way into Mary Kathryn's bedroom to begin the process of waking the little girl up for school. First, she got out the clothes that she'd be wearing that day and laid them out before walking over to the bed. She smiled when all that she could see was a head full of dark brown ringlets sticking out of the covers. "Mary Kathryn," she leaned down as her daughter mumbled in protest. "It's time to wake up, sweetie. I've got your clothes laid out. Come on, it's time to wake up and start our day."

"Five more minutes," came the protest under the covers.

"No more minutes. Come on. Jen's going to be here soon. Get dressed while I make your breakfast."

"Can I have pancakes?" She sat up and stretched.

"No, baby. Daddy isn't here to make pancakes. Come on, get up and get dressed."

"Where's my daddy?" Mary Kathryn asked, throwing back the covers and getting out of bed.

"He had to go to work. Come on now," Jill urged her once again.

"My daddy never goes to work until later!" She protested when Jill pulled her gown over her head. "Mom, I have to go to the bathroom!"

"Then, go!" Jill laughed, watching Mary Kathryn run from the room. "Wash your hands and face!"

"Why do I have to wash my face before I have breakfast?" She asked, re-entering the room with her hands dripping wet, as usual.

"Because it gets the sleep out of your eyes. Get dressed and come downstairs," Jill ordered as she left the room. "Oh, and bring me your hairbrush."

Jill walked into the kitchen and took down a cereal bowl just as the phone rang. She grabbed it, pouring cereal into a bowl as she answered. "Jill, it's me," Jen Gillis' voice came over the line. "Me and the kids are running a little late, but I should be there by 7:30 or so."

"There's no rush," Jill could hear Mary Kathryn's footsteps on the stairs. "Mary Kathryn will be ready when you get here."

"Okay. We'll see you in a bit."

"Can I have Applejacks?" Mary Kathryn asked, watching her mother replace the box of cereal.

"You can have Cheerios and like it," Jill told her as she added milk to the bowl and brought it over to the table. "Sit down and give me your hairbrush."

While Mary Kathryn ate, Jill brushed the tangles from her daughter's curly hair and quickly pulled it back from her face into a pony tail and fastened it with an elastic band. She then curled her finger around it as it curled beautifully down her back. Watching it curl down her back, she found herself once again being fiercely jealous of her daughter's hair.

"Do you want peanut butter and jelly, or ham and cheese?"

"Peanut butter," Mary Kathryn mumbled around a mouthful of cereal. "Will my daddy be home for dinner?"

"I don't know," Jill made Mary Kathryn's lunch and put it into her Wonder Woman lunchbox before closing the lid.

"Did somebody kill a bunch of people?" She asked, getting up from the table and walking into the kitchen.

"I don't know. Are you done?" Jill asked as Mary Kathryn nodded. "Go brush your teeth."

"Turn on the news," Mary Kathryn suggested, excitement creeping into her voice. "Maybe my daddy's on the news!"

"I'm sure that your daddy isn't on the news. Now, go upstairs and brush your teeth."

Jill smiled, watching her little girl leave the room. Most of the time, when she talked about Mike, it was always as 'my daddy.' It was as if she had to share him with 10 other kids but had to make sure he was hers. Or, as if whoever she was talking to wasn't aware of the fact that Mike was 'her daddy.' At times, it was annoying, but at other times, like now, it was cute. She clearly adored her daddy.

Only after sending Mary Kathryn off to school with Jennifer could Jill finish getting herself ready for work. When she walked into the hospital right before eight o'clock, one of the nurses called out to her. "How was your daughter's first day of school?"

"Oh, she did fine. On the other hand, I was an emotional wreck," Jill called back, walking toward her office.

When Jill had been promoted three years before, Mike had been concerned about her taking a job where she'd be mired down in paperwork and bureaucratic baloney most of the time. So far, the job hadn't been awful. The hours were the same as Mike's, which allowed one of the other of them to be with Mary Kathryn. Jill had also been able to implement changes to her department without too much argument from the higher-up's in the hospital. And the raise in pay was a nice bonus. It allowed her to help Mike continue to fix up the house and to put Mary Kathryn in gymnastics and dance. She took a quick look at her watch before getting up and leaving her office to attend the morning's meetings.

"What did the D.A. say?" Brinker asked when Mike returned to his desk.

"He said that if we don't come up with something more than a simple custodial interference, then we'll have to cut Mueller loose," Mike sat down and began working on his reports.

"What did the lab say?"

"There's a huge blood stain in the trunk of Adam's car. Freddie's still processing it. He said that he'll call me back if he finds anything else."

"A blood stain might be enough to hold him."

"Not according to Weatherly," Mike said, referring to the D.A.

"We have company," Brinker announced as Mike glanced up from his desk and saw Mrs. Mueller and Erika walking toward his desk.

"Mrs. Mueller, is there something that I can help you with?" Mike got up and walked toward them.

"I was just wondering what Albert had told you."

"Uh . . . Erika, I just happen to have some coloring books and other stuff in my desk. Let me show you," Mike led the little girl over to his desk and opened up a drawer containing coloring books, crayons, and other small toys. "Why don't you play with this stuff while I talk to your mom?"

Erika simply nodded as she removed one of the coloring books and the box of crayons from the desk drawer. Once he saw that she was occupied, Mike turned his attention back to her mother. "It's nice that you keep things for kids," Mrs. Mueller watched her daughter.

"I bring my daughter up here with me sometimes. If I don't give her things to do, she wanders around the precinct," he explained, shuddering when he remembered the tongue lashing he'd received from Jill after Mary Kate's last visit to the precinct. She had wandered around, getting dollar bills and candy from the other officers, who all knew her. Jill had been furious, to put it mildly.

"How old is your daughter?"

"She just turned five. Mrs. Mueller, Albert refuses to tell us where Adam is," Mike said, changing the subject back to her son. "He did, however, admit that he drugged Erika with Benadryl. What did your doctor say?"

"He also felt that she had been drugged. He said that he'll send the results of her blood work here as soon as he gets it. Was there anything in Adam's car?"

"The lab is still processing it," he didn't want to reveal what had been found.

"Have you spoken to Albert's mother? I'm sure that she probably knows something," the woman said in a bitter voice.

"I'm visiting her later this afternoon."

"Erika is asking a lot of questions. She wants to know if her daddy is going to stay in jail."

"I don't know right now. We don't have a lot to hold him on."

"If he gets out, he's going to come after me. He told me a long time ago that if I do anything to keep his daughter from him, I won't live long enough to regret it."

"Mrs. Mueller, I'm doing everything in my power to make sure that Albert doesn't get out of jail. It's going to depend on what the lab finds. I wish that I could tell you more, but right now, I just don't know a whole lot."

"You will keep me posted?"

"Of course."

"What did you tell her?" Brinker asked after Mrs. Mueller had left with Erika.

"I told her that her son is probably dead," Mike answered sarcastically. "What do you think I told her?"

"Are you still pissed off about this morning?"

"No, Brinker. I'm pissed off about the fact that we have another asshole father and probably another dead kid," Mike sighed as he sat down and began working on his paperwork once again.

"There was a lot of blood in the trunk, huh?"

"Yeah, way too much blood," Mike said as his phone rang. "Danko!"

"Mike, it's Freddie. Call the D.A. and tell him that he can up the charges. I just found gunshot residue and brain matter on the inside of the trunk lid."

"Ah, Jesus," Mike groaned, hanging up and then immediately dialing another number. "May I speak to Mr. Weatherly, please? Joe, it's Mike Danko. I'm glad that I caught you before you go to Albert Mueller's arraignment. I just spoke to the lab. The tech found gunshot residue and brain matter in the trunk of the boy's car."

"Is he sending the report to my office?"

"Yes, sir. It's on it's way right now."

"Well, that enough to hold him on a murder charge. Thank you for calling me, detective."

"No problem," Mike ended the call and sat back in his chair.

"Do you think we'll get another crack at him?" Brinker asked.

"I'd like to get a crack at him," Mike stood up from his desk. "I'd like to take a baseball bat and get a crack at his skull. I need some air."

Brinker sighed as he watched his partner walk off. Kids and Det. Danko weren't a good combination. He had too much compassion and wanted to save them all, which wasn't really a bad thing. It was just annoying, at times. There were bad people in the world. There was nothing that could be done to change that. In over 20 years on the job, Brinker had seen more than his share of bad people. He'd just learned to put up a wall to shut out the horrors of people who wore the disguises of monsters. It had come at the cost of three wives and two sons who wanted nothing to do with him. At times he found himself wishing that he had someone to come home to at night and a kid that adored him. Those were the times that he envied Mike Danko, his happy marriage, and his adorable daughter.

Mike and Brinker had arranged to meet Hannah Mueller, Albert's mother, at three o'clock that afternoon. Mike pulled up in front of the neat frame house and shut off the engine. "I wonder what she's going to be like in person because she wasn't exactly warm and inviting when I spoke to her on the phone."

"You can charm her," Brinker grinned. "Hell, you can charm anybody."

"Have you been talking to my wife?"

"Are you kidding? Your wife hates me, remember?" Brinker opened his door and got out of the car.

"She doesn't hate you," Mike got out and followed his partner up the walkway.

"Okay, she doesn't _like_ me," Brinker corrected himself.

"Now, you're right. But Mary Kate likes you."

"She's a kid. She doesn't know any better."

Mike laughed before he walked up and loudly rapped on the front door. It was soon opened by a woman in her 60's, with snow white hair. "May I help you?" Her German accent was even more pronounced than her former daughters-in-law was.

"Mrs. Mueller, I'm Det. Lt. Danko," Mike showed the woman his badge and identification. "This is my partner, Det. Lt. Brinker. I spoke to you on the phone earlier regarding your son, Albert."

"You might as well come in," she said, stepping away from the door. "Please wipe your feet first. I don't know what you want me to tell you about Albert. He's a good boy."

"What time did he bring Erika over on Sunday?" Mike asked, dutifully wiping his feet and entering the neat home, followed by Brinker.

"I do not know. I did not look at the clock," she stated in a huff, turning to look at the two men with her arms crossed over her chest defiantly.

"Was Adam with him?" Brinker asked.

"Adam did not come into the house with Albert. He may have been in the car. I do not know. I did not ask where Adam was."

"How did Albert seem when he dropped Erika off?" Mike asked.

"What does that question mean? He was no different than he always is when he brings the children. He asked if Erika could stay here for a little while."

"How did Erika appear?" Mike wanted to know.

"I do not understand these questions! She was very sleepy, so I put her to bed. Albert said that she had stayed up too late the night before watching television. That was why she was so tired."

"Why didn't you call your daughter-in-law to let her know that Erika was here?" Brinker interjected as the woman glared at her. "Greta was very worried about her."

"I do not like Greta and she does not like me. We do not talk unless we have to. Erika was safe. I had no reason to call her. I am not a monster, Detective, no matter what Greta may have told you about me."

"Greta hasn't told us anything about you. I was just curious as to why you didn't let her know that her little girl was over here. That's all."

"How much is Albert's bail? They would not tell me anything when I called your station."

"I don't know how much his bail is. I'm not the judge."

"I think that you both should leave now. I do not know anything," she walked to the door, opening it to indicate that their meeting was over.

"Thank you for your time," Mike walked to the door, followed by his partner. Neither man spoke until they got back into the car.

"My first mother-in-law was from Greece," Brinker looked at Mike as he removed a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. "She never spoke a word of English around me the entire time my wife and I were married. But she and my ex would have these extremely animated conversations entirely in Greek. I could tell from their gestures that they were talking about me. I made it a point to never marry a woman who had parents from a foreign country."

"Yeah, but the ex-Mrs. Mueller is also from Germany. My mother is French, and she is teaching my daughter French. Jill swears up and down this is so Mary Kate can talk about her and she won't understand a word that she's saying," Mike chuckled as he started the car.

"But do your wife and mother get along?"

"For the most part," Mike nodded, driving down the street. "Jill gave my mother the one thing that my brother and sisters never did."

"What was that?"

"A grandchild that she and my father can dote on whenever they want."

Mary Kate was happily playing with her best friend, Thomas Gillis in the living room of the Gillis home. Thomas' mother, Jennifer, was in another room doing laundry, popping back into the living room occasionally to check on the two children. She knew that she had to keep a constant eye on Thomas and Mary Kate, because one was never sure what the two of them were going to cook up next in the way of mischief.

Thomas was seven, two years older than Mary Kate. He had a mop of dark curly brown hair and huge brown eyes. He was also something of a daredevil.

Mary Kate looked at the clock on the wall. The little hand was on the five and the big hand was on the nine, which meant that her mother would be home soon. She pushed her hands through her hair, which had been so neat only that morning, but was now hanging in a curly mass down her back. "Do you want to do something fun?" Thomas challenged her.

"Like what?" Mary Kate was now curious.

Thomas ran to the kitchen doorway and glanced inside before returning to the living room and emptying the laundry basket that was full of his younger sister, Natalie's, toys onto the living room floor. "Come on," he beckoned her to follow him as he ran upstairs.

"What are you doing?" She asked, running upstairs behind him.

"Get in," he ordered, placing the empty basket at the top of the staircase.

"Thomas, what are we going to do?" Mary Kate was now suspicious. Her five-year-old sense was telling her that this _wasn't_ a good idea. After all, her mom and daddy never allowed her to play on the stairs at home.

"It's like sledding. Don't be such a baby," he taunted her. "My dad lets me do this all the time. You get in the front and I'll get in behind you."

Mary Kate still didn't think that this was such a good idea, but she hated it when Thomas called her a baby just because he was older. She carefully climbed into the plastic laundry basket and she felt Thomas get in behind her.

In the laundry room, Jennifer set the timer on the dryer and picked up the basket of clothes that had just finished drying. "Come on, Natalie, let's go play with Thomas and Mary Kate," she told her three-year-old daughter as they walked toward the living room. What she saw upon returning to the living room filled her with fury. "Thomas Andrew, get out of that laundry basket right now!" The two kids quickly jumped out of the basket and came down the stairs. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Dad lets me do it," Thomas whined. "It's like riding on a sled."

"Thomas, how many times have I told you that you don't play on the stairs? Do you want to break your arm again? I want you to sit in daddy's chair. Mary Kate, you sit on the couch. I don't want either of you moving until Jill gets here to pick you up, Mary Kate."

"You never let me have any fun," Thomas complained, kicking at the floor. "Dad lets me do it."

"Well, I'm not your dad," Jen began folding clothes.

"No kidding."

"Would you like to go up to your room instead?" She looked at him as he shook his head. Turning her back to fold clothes, she heard the two children giggling. She looked at Thomas, and then at Mary Kate, which quickly put an end to the giggling.

For the most past Jen didn't mind sitting for Mike and Jill. But there were times when the thought entered her mind that if either of them spanked Mary Kate more instead of 'talking' to her, she'd be much better behaved. With two kids to take care of, if she spent all her time trying to reason with them, she'd be hoarse in no time flat.

Jill pulled up in front of the Gillis house at the same time as Willie, who pulled into the driveway and shut off his engine before getting out. "Hey, your old man wasn't in a great mood today. What gives with that?" He asked as Jill got out of the car and started up the walk.

"I don't know. I haven't talked to him since early this morning. I know that he was irritated at his partner."

Hearing voices outside, Jen looked out the living room window, frowning slightly when she saw her husband talking to Jill. When William had first brought Jen to California from their native Ohio five years earlier, he'd told her that Jill was just 'one of the guys.' He went on to explain that it had been that way from the beginning of his friendship with Mike and Terry. Jen liked Jill very much, but at times she felt jealous of the relationship with she had with William and Terry. There were times when she still felt like an outsider.

She stepped away from the window, forcing a smile when she heard William's key in the front door. "Hi," he smiled, walking over and kissing her. Then he looked over her shoulder and saw his son sitting in his recliner, clearly looking unhappy. "What's going on?"

"You need to have a talk with your son."

"Why is he always 'my' son when he does something bad, but when he does something brilliant, he's 'your' son?"

"Apparently you let him slide down the stairs in the laundry basket when I'm not around."

Standing by the front door, Jill began to feel very uncomfortable listening to her friends argue about their seven-year-old son. That was when she noticed Mary Kathryn sitting on the sofa, looking every bit as unhappy and guilty as Thomas. That was when she knew that whatever trouble Thomas had gotten mixed up in, Mary Kathryn was also in the thick of it. "Get your things together, Mary Kathryn," Jill beckoned to her daughter, who was only too happy to get off the sofa,

"Jill, there's a note from Evelyn in her folder," Jen said, referring to Mary Kathryn's gymnastics teacher.

"Is it about the same thing as before?" Jill asked. Jen nodded. "I'll deal with it at home. Come on, Mary Kathryn."

Jen waited until Jill had left and closed the door behind her before she exploded in anger. "That kid is a monster!"

"What're you talking about?" William asked before noticing that Thomas was still sitting in his recliner, glued to every word his parents were saying. "Thomas, take Natalie and go outside to play."

"Dad—" Thomas began to whine.

"Go!" William turned his attention back to his wife once he heard the back-door slam closed. "Now, would you like to tell me what in the hell is going on?"

"Thomas has already had one broken arm! Do you want a repeat performance of that? He and Mary Kate were in the toy basket and were getting ready to slide down the stairs in it. If I hadn't come back into the room when I had—"

"Jen, first off, Thomas is a boy. I used to do crazy stuff with my brother all the time. We used to jump off the roof of our house. We used to throw firecrackers into metal trash cans. We weren't delinquents; we were just typical active boys. Thomas isn't any different than I was at his age. Mary Kate's a tomboy, so that makes her the closest thing to a brother that he has. Why are you calling her a monster?"

"Did you ever sleep with Jill?"

"Not only no, but hell no! What has that got to do with you calling Mary Kate a monster?"

"William, that kid would mind a whole hell of a lot better if there was less spoiling the child and more using the rod, if you know what I mean."

"So, now you're saying that Mike and Jill should be beating their kid!" William shouted at her. "Why don't you just tell me why you're so pissed off, so that we can get to the bottom of things."

"Mary Kate had gymnastics today," Jen explained, walking over to the sofa and sitting down. "The spotter had to walk away for a few minutes. She told Mary Kate to wait for her to come back. Instead of listening like she was told to do, she climbed on top of the balance beam and was doing stuff she isn't supposed to be doing. Evelyn was furious. She informed me that if Mary Kate gets hurt because she's not listening, they're not going to be responsible."

"Jennifer, she's five. How many five-year-old's do you know that do exactly what they're told every single second of the day? You need to relax a little. Because, quite frankly, you're starting to turn into your mother," he left the room before she could respond further.

At the Danko house, Jill pulled a padded footstool over to the counter and summoned Mary Kathryn to the kitchen. "Get up here and help me make dinner for daddy," she ordered, getting a bowl, the cannister of flour, salt and pepper over and placing them in front of her. She then walked behind her daughter and slipped a huge apron over her head.

"This is my daddy's barbecue apron," Mary Kathryn protested.

"He won't mind if you wear it. Stir this for me," Jill handed Mary Kathryn a spoon and watched her stir the seasoned flour mixture. "What were you and Thomas doing today?" Jill went to the refrigerator, returning a moment later with a package of pork chops and the carton of eggs.

"He said that it was like sledding. Can I dip the pork chops?"

"As soon as I get the eggs ready."

"I can do the eggs," Mary Kathryn offered, jumping off her stool and coming around to stand next to her mother.

"Okay. Get back on your stool and I'll slide the bowl over to you. Be careful not to let shells get in with the eggs."

"Mom, I know," Mary Kathryn sighed in exasperation.

"Mary Kathryn, you know better than to play on stairs. Maybe you should start staying with Mamie and Poppy after school."

"Mom, it's boring over there!"

"Then, you listen to me and you listen to me carefully," Jill forced the little girl to look at her. "If Thomas wants to do something, and you're not sure if it's okay, you go, and you ask Jennifer. Do you understand me?"

"Are you going to tell my daddy?" Mary Kathryn asked in terror. She had been told on more than one occasion how her father felt about her misbehaving in someone else's home.

"I have to tell daddy. Here, dip these," she put a plate of pork chops in front of her daughter.

"I won't do it again."

"I'm sure that you won't, but if I don't tell daddy, and Jennifer tells him, he'll be mad at us both, don't you think?"

"Maybe Jennifer won't tell him," Mary Kathryn suggested, her tone hopeful.

"We'll talk about this later."

Pulling his car into the garage, Mike forced his mind to shut off the Mueller case. Since the birth of Mary Kate, rule number one had been to leave work at work. It wasn't always easy, but he knew that at home his focus had to be on his wife and daughter. It wasn't fair to drag the two of them into his cases.

He loosened his tie and opened the door leading into the kitchen. He smiled when he saw Jill and Mary Kate busy together at the kitchen counter. "My girls!" He called out cheerfully, stepping between them, kissing Mary Kate on the top of her head and Jill on the lips. "Dinner smells great." He grinned at the sight of Mary Kate in his apron, which drowned her. Her long hair was a tangled mess down her back. "What happened to your hair? You look like the Witch Queen of New Orleans."

"We need to talk later," Jill whispered into his ear. He pulled back with a worried look on his face. "It's not an emergency, so don't look so worried. Go and take a shower while we finish dinner."

After dinner, Mike was roughhousing with Mary Kate in the living room while Jill cleaned up the kitchen. She smiled while listening to her daughter's squeals of laughter coming from the other room. She then remembered what Jennifer had said regarding the note from the gymnastics teacher.

Wiping her hands on a towel, she retrieved the note from Mary Kathryn's backpack, frowning while she read it. She put the note on the dining room table and walked into the living room where she found her daughter propped like a circus acrobat on Mike's feet. "Bath time, Mary Kathryn," she announced, pulling Mary Kathryn from her father's feet.

"No, it's not," Mary Kathryn argued, looking at the clock. "The hands aren't right. I take a bath when the big hand is on the 12 and the little hand is on the seven."

"Well, tonight bath time is right now. Let's go," she urged the little girl upstairs, seeing the questioning look that Mike was giving her.

In the bathroom, Jill brushed Mary Kathryn's long hair with a little more force than usual and twisted it into a bun on top of her head. "Ouch!" Mary Kathryn cried out.

"What were you doing on the balance beam today?" Jill turned on the water faucets.

"Nothing. I wasn't going to get hurt. The mats were stacked to the very top."

"Mary Kathryn, you're not ready for the balance beam. You'll be ready when Evelyn or Grace tells you that you're ready. You can hurt yourself. Daddy and I don't want you to get hurt. From now on, you do exactly what Miss Evelyn or Miss Grace tells you to do."

"I don't mean to be bad."

"Sweetie, you're not bad," Jill hugged her. "Hard-headed, yes. Come on, get in the bath. After that, you can watch TV with me and daddy for a little while."

"I can do flips on my little beam," Mary Kathryn told her mother, referring to the small practice beam she had in her room.

"I know, but you're not going to get hurt if you fall off it. I know that you want to be like the older girls and soon, you will be. But not yet."

"I hate being the littlest," she complained. "I feel like Tootie."

Jill smiled at the reference to the youngest daughter in the movie 'Meet Me in St. Louis.' They had watched it on TV the previous Christmas and Mary Kathryn had loved it, especially the antics of the youngest girl, played by Margaret O'Brien. "Just don't start burying your dolls in the backyard."

"Seven would just dig them up, anyway."

After putting Mary Kathryn to bed an hour later, Jill came back downstairs and sat down beside Mike. She then told him about both the gymnastics incident and the incident earlier at the Gillis'. "Mike, I'm seriously thinking about asking your mother to start watching Mary Kathryn after school. I'm beginning to think that Jen might have her hands full with her two kids and ours."

"Babe, Mary Kate is a lot of kid, and my mother's not a spring chicken," he pointed out. "And if she stays at Willie and Jen's, she has someone to play with. She doesn't have that if she stays with my parents after school."

"Mike, I love Thomas, but not a week goes by where either you or I get a report about the two of them getting into trouble. It does no good to complain to Willie because he'll just give us the party line about Thomas being a typical boy, just like he was when he was a kid. It's just something I think we should consider."

"They're kids, babe. While I don't condone what Mary Kate was doing today, at least Jennifer caught them before somebody got hurt. Did you have a talk with Mary Kate?"

"Yes. And, another thing. I don't like the fact that Willie and Jen started arguing about the situation before I'd even left and with Thomas sitting right there, hanging on their every word."

"Jill, while it's true that Willie and Jen are our friends, I'm not about to tell them how they should be conducting their business in their own home. I agree that they shouldn't be fighting in front of the kids, but it's also not any of our business."

"Willie mentioned that he saw you this morning and you seemed pissed off," she changed the subject. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"It's just everything with this case and more of Brinker's crap. I don't want to drag you into the middle of it," he kissed her on the cheek.

The following Tuesday afternoon, Jennifer Gillis was sitting and watching the little girls in Mary Kate's gymnastics class while they practiced various routines. Normally she would have to bring Natalie with her, but today her young daughter had a cold. Fortunately, William had the day off, so she left Thomas and Natalie with him while she brought Mary Kate to gymnastics.

The class was only an hour long, so she figured that her husband could keep their kids under control for that length of time. But, following the sledding incident of a week before, she found herself wondering if William allowed their children to do things like Thomas and Mary Kate had been doing, what else was he letting them do when she wasn't around?

She glanced over to the balance beam where one of the spotters was helping Mary Kate with turns and jumps. There were mats stacked to the top on one side, but the other only had the mats on the floor surface, allowing the spotter to walk alongside the beam while keeping an eye on the active five-year-old. "I can do a cartwheel on my little beam at home," Jen heard Mary Kate proudly boast to the spotter, a teenage girl of about 15 or 16.

"That's great, but you're not ready to do those kinds of tricks on this beam. Do another turn, and this time, hold your arms to your sides."

"Kelly!" Jen heard the owner of the academy calling out. "Can you help me with something?"

"I'll be right there, Evelyn. Mary Kate, you need to get down and sit on this mat until I come back."

"I'm just going to practice my turns again."

"You can do that when I come back. I'll just be a few minutes. Come down now, please."

Going over things in her head later, Jen still wasn't sure how it happened. She knew that even if she'd been standing right at Mary Kate's side, there would've been nothing that she could have done. Either Mary Kate's foot slipped, or she lost her balance. As if in slow motion, Mary Kate fell forward from the balance beam. The thud was a horrendous sound, but the sound of Mary Kate's shrieks of pain was even worse. Jennifer raced over to the child's side, arriving at the same time as Evelyn and Kelly, along with several of the other children.

The floor mats and the beam were covered in blood, and so was Mary Kate's face. "Get me some towels!" Evelyn shouted as Kelly ran to get some towels. "Mary Kate, let me see."

"No!" The little girl screamed, holding her hands to her mouth.

"Sweetie, I need to see how bad it is," she took one of the towels from Kelly. When Mary Kate slowly lowered her hands, they could all see a gaping cut on her chin. "Kelly, stay with the other girls. Mrs. Gillis, we need to take her to the ER."

In the backseat of Evelyn's car on the way to the hospital, Jen held tightly to Mary Kate as the little girl continued to scream and cry hysterically. The one thought going through Jen's mind was the thought that Jill was going to kill her. And, if Jill didn't, Mike would, for sure.

When Thomas had broken his arm at the playground the previous summer, Jill had been the calm voice of reason while Jen had played the role of hysterical mother to perfection. 'Children got hurt,' she remembered Jill telling her. 'It's just something that happens.' She wondered how Jill was going to react when it was her own kid who was hurt. Something told her that she wasn't going to be the calm voice of reason; that was for damn sure.

"Did you see what happened?" Evelyn interrupted Jen's reverie. "I have to know what to tell her mother."

"Kelly told her to get off the beam when you called her over. I think she was doing that, and her foot slipped. I'm not sure. It happened so fast. Mary Kate, what happened? Did your foot slip?"

"I don't know!" The little girl wailed while Jen held a blood-soaked towel to her chin.

"Are you sure that she wasn't doing anything stupid?" Evelyn pulled up in front of the hospital.

"I told you that her foot slipped," Jennifer glared at the woman.

"Take her in while I park the car."

Jill was in her office working on schedules for the next week when her phone rang. "This is Mrs. Danko."

"Uh, Jill, this is Vicky in the ER. A Mrs. Gillis just brought your daughter in. She said that she had an accident in gymnastics class."

"I'll be right there."

Jill slammed her phone down and raced out of her office down to the ER. Getting off the elevator, she didn't have to ask where Mary Kathryn was. She could hear her screaming all the way down the corridor. She was sure that people in Santa Monica could probably hear her. She ran toward the sound. She saw Jen standing beside the gurney when she entered the trauma room. She also saw the blood that was covering her clothes, her hands, and even her face. "What happened to her?" Jill shrieked before she ran over to the gurney where an ER attending was examining the cut on Mary Kathryn's face.

"I want my daddy!" Mary Kathryn screamed, kicking and fighting the doctor.

"Jill, you're going to have to help me hold her," the doctor instructed. Jill joined him, and two other nurses, who were already holding down the screaming, kicking child with little success.

"Grab her legs!"

"What happened to her?" Jill asked again, all the while holding down Mary Kathryn's legs with every ounce of strength she possessed.

"She slipped and fell off the balance beam," Jennifer answered in a small voice.

"She's definitely going to need stitches," the doctor announced.

"How many?"

"At least eight, maybe as many as 10 or 12."

"I want my daddy!" Mary Kathryn repeated.

"I'll go and call daddy," Jill assured her.

"No! Mom, you can't go!"

"I'll call him," Jennifer volunteered. "I need to call William, anyway."

"Can you wait to stitch her up until my husband gets here?" Jill asked.

"If he hurries. That might give us time to calm Mary Kate down."

Jen ran from the room and over to a bank of pay phones. She saw Evelyn walking through the ER doors. She put change into the phone and called William first. "Honey, it's me. Mary Kate had an accident at gymnastics. I'm here in the ER with her now."

"Is she okay?"

"She needs stitches," her voice was shaking. "My car is still at the gymnastics academy. I need for you to swing by here and pick me up. Then you can take me there to get my car. I can't stay on the phone. I have to call Mike. William, hurry. I have a feeling that Jill is going to blow."

"Can you blame her? I'm sorry. I know how upset you are. I'm sure that Jill isn't going to blame you. I'll be there as soon as I find someone to watch the kids."

Jen hung up and wondered what William had meant by his previous comment. She didn't have time to think about that now. Instead, she put more coins in the pay phone and dialed Mike's work number. Mike answered on the third ring. "Mike, it's Jennifer. Mary Kate's had an accident. Jill's with her now, but she wants you."

"An accident?" Brinker looked over at him. "What happened? Is she okay?"

"Mike, it's a long story. I'll gladly give you all the gory details when you get here. Mary Kate's asking for you, and she's not going to let the doctor do anything until you get here."

"I'll be there as soon as I can," Mike hung up and grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. "My daughter's had an accident. I have to go."

"You do realize that an 'accident' could mean anything. She could have a damn splinter in her finger, for all you know."

"Did you ever take your kids to the ER for a splinter? I'll call you later!"

"Mike's on his way," Jen walked back into the trauma room and stood against the far wall.

"Daddy's in his way, sweetie," Jill soothed her hiccupping child. "He'll be here in just a few minutes."

"Mommy, did my teeth fall out?" Mary Kathryn stammered, tears continuing to fall down her face.

"No, baby," Jill forced a smile. "I think they're all still there."

"She's lucky in that respect," the doctor smiled. "It looks like she took a hard hit, though. Mary Kathryn, did you hit your head when you fell?"

"I don't know. Where's my daddy? I want to go home."

"He's on his way, baby."

"I don't think that she hit her head. Everything happened so fast," Jen volunteered the information.

"Why in the hell weren't you watching her?" Jill hissed.

"I was watching her. Kelly told her to get off the beam when she got called away. I don't know if Mary Kate went to jump down or if her foot slipped. I saw her slipping and then she was screaming. I got to her as fast as I could," Jen let loose with the tears that she'd been holding in since the accident happened.

Jill didn't say anything more. Instead, she returned all her attention to Mary Kathryn, brushing her hair back from her wet face. She cringed when she saw that some of her hair was matted with dried blood. "I want my daddy," the little girl whimpered once again as Jill wiped her nose.

"He'll be here soon."

"I don't want stitches," she insisted. "Tell him no," she glared at the doctor.

"I love you," Jill pressed her lips to Mary Kathryn's forehead, holding back the tears of rage and fear that she felt.

Mike and Willie arrived at the hospital at the same time. "Jen called and told me that Mary Kate got hurt. Do you know what happened?" Mike asked, both men running into the hospital waiting area.

"I just know that she had an accident at gymnastics. She told me to come because her car is still at the academy. I dropped the kids off with Serena and hauled ass up here."

Mike asked a nurse where to go and she pointed at a nearby trauma room. He walked over and took a deep breath before pushing the door opened. The sight of his tiny daughter on the stark white examining table filled him with fear. "Mary Kate, what did you do?" He forced his voice to sound far more cheerful than he felt.

"I fell," she reached out for him.

"Mr. Danko, we need to do this," the doctor said, walking toward the table with a syringe. "Jill, you know the drill."

'Mike, hold her head," she instructed him while she grabbed her legs and two other nurses held down her arms. Even with all the adults holding her down, Jill knew that the five-year-old was going to fight them tooth and nail. She had witnessed the same scene hundreds of times.

"Mary Kathryn, this is going to sting a little, but then you won't feel anything," the doctor's voice was quiet while he approached the child armed with the syringe.

"No!" Mary Kathryn began to shriek in terror, kicking against all the arms that were holding her down.

"I have a better idea," one of the nurses walked over and removed a sheet from the cabinet. "Lift her up," she instructed Jill.

Jill lifted Mary Kathryn up. The nurse placed the sheet on the table. Once Jill placed her back on the table, they were able to wrap her like a mummy. "She won't be able to fight that."

Trussing her took the fight out of her, but it did little to quell her screams and cries as the doctor expertly stitched her chin. It took several minutes to finish stitching and bandaging the wound. The little girl was clearly exhausted by the time he was done. "Will you need to keep her overnight?" Jill asked.

"I don't think so. Just keep an eye on her tonight. I think if she'd hit her head, we'd have known it by now. Bring her back in a week and I'll take the stitches out. For the record, I think she deserves the biggest doll in the whole toy store," he smiled, watching Mike pick her up in his arms where Mary Kate instantly wrapped her arms and legs around him, laying her head on his shoulder.

"Come on, slugger. Let's go home," Mike reached out and took Jill's hand. "Thank you, doctor."

"Don't mention it. It's all in a day's work."

"We'll take my car home and I'll bring you to work in the morning," Mike told her, watching her nod in agreement.

"Jill, I'm really sorry," Jen tried to apologize. Jill turned and glared at her, "It was almost like when Thomas fell last summer. It happened so fast."

"Jen let's go get your car," William took Jen's hand and led her out of the hospital. "You need to give her some time."

"William, this wasn't my fault. It wasn't even Mary Kate's fault. It was just one of those crazy accidents that kids have."

"I know," he opened the passenger side door of his car for her. "You just don't understand how Mike and Jill are when it comes to that kid."

"Well, why don't one of you sit down one day and explain it to me? Tell me the rules of the game, William, so that I can play, too."

William got behind the wheel, wondering if maybe he should tell Jennifer about that awful night in that restaurant so long ago. It had been an unspoken rule for so long that no one talked about that night. Then maybe his wife would understand why the Danko's didn't spank their daughter, and at times even treated her like she was made of spun sugar.

When they got to Mike's car, Jill opened the passenger side door and got in, buckling her seat belt before Mike handed Mary Kathryn to her. The little girl protested slightly when she was transferred to her mother, but quickly settled in against her mother's breast. All the fight was clearly gone from the exhausted child. "Abbey Road, daddy," Mary Kate said when Mike got behind the wheel.

"We're in daddy's car, baby. Mommy has The Beatles in her car."

"I feel like I got hit by Maxwell's Silver Hammer," she lisped, causing both parents to laugh.

"I bet you do, kid," Mike started the car and began the short drive toward home.

When they got home, Mike took Mary Kate from Jill and carried her upstairs to her bedroom. Jill then changed her into pajamas and placed her in bed. "Can Seven sleep in my room tonight?" She asked drowsily, rolling over as Jill rubbed her back.

Mike was about to answer her when the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," he walked downstairs and opened the door to find Terry standing there. "Hi."

"Serena told me that Mary Kate had an accident at gymnastics. Is she okay?"

"Yeah. She has 10 stitches in her chin and tomorrow, she's going to look like she went 10 rounds with Ali or Frazier. Jill's upstairs with her right now. When she gets down here, I'm going to spend the rest of the night calming her down."

"I can understand her being upset."

"Me, too. Let me get back upstairs. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Mike closed the door behind Terry and looked toward the stairs when he heard Jill coming down. "Who was that?"

"Terry. He was checking on Mary Kate. Is she asleep?" She nodded. "I'm going to make some tea. Do you want some?" When she didn't answer, he walked toward her. "Babe, she's going to be okay." Those words were all it took for the dam to break. He pulled his wife into his arms, feeling her whole body shake with sobs. "Shhh. Jill, she's a kid. Believe me when I tell you that sometimes kids get hurt. We've both seen it. Pull yourself together before Mary Kate wakes up and hears you. Come on, I'll make us some tea."

"I know that I owe Jen an apology, but, Mike, I was just so angry," she sat at the dining room table and accepted Mike's handkerchief from him.

"I know," he walked into the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil. "There are times when she must think that we're insane. Maybe we should explain why we are—"

"No, Mike."

"So, we should just let her keep wondering?"

"It's better than having to deal with the sympathy. Do you think that I should send Mary Kathryn to school tomorrow?"

"Play it by ear. If she doesn't feel like going, she can stay with Jen and Natalie for the day."

"If she doesn't feel like going, I'll take her to work with me."

"Babe, it was a terrible accident. I'm sure that Jennifer feels bad enough without us blaming her."

"I don't blame her. I just don't feel like letting Mary Kathryn out of my sight. Maybe I need to rethink this working mom thing."

Mike sighed. They'd had this conversation many times before and the conclusion had always been the same. If Jill were to quit, they'd have to cut out a lot of things that they'd become accustomed to. Things like eating and having electricity. "Let's talk about this later when we're not both so frazzled," he brought a mug of tea over to her.

He was about to say something further when the police line rang. "Hello?"

"Did the kid survive?" Brinker's sarcastic tone cut across the line. "I've been trying to call and page you for the last two hours."

"Why? Was the precinct burning down around you? Did you have to question a kid? Or, did you actually have to do some work on your own?" Mike fired back. "I told you exactly where I was going. The next time that you feel the need to know exactly where I am, send along a rookie to act as an escort!"

Jill jumped when he slammed the receiver down. "When are you going to talk to Capt. Fuller about him?"

"Tomorrow," he decided with quiet finality.

The next morning Jill winced when she saw Mary Kathryn's face 12 hours after her fall. Her entire lower jaw was swollen and bruised, as were her eyes. Jill knew that there was no way she could send her to school looking like that. She began packing some coloring books and crayons along with some simple games into a backpack. "Mary Kathryn, would you like to go to work with me today?"

"Why can't I stay at Jen's or go to school?"

"Do you want to stay at Jen's?"

"I can't wait to show Thomas my face!" Her little face brightened. "He thought getting a cast was a big deal! Can I show him my stitches?"

"You need to leave the bandage on for another day or two. Mary Kathryn, can you tell me how you fell?" Jill asked as Mike entered the room, also wincing when he saw his daughter's face.

"I was getting down and my foot slipped. I tried to jump, but my feet were too slow. Do I have to quit gymnastics now?"

"No. I do want you to be more careful," Jill glanced at her husband, finding it hard to believe how quickly their daughter had converted back to her normal, chatty self.

"I have to go," Mike walked over and kissed first Jill, and then Mary Kate. "I have an 8:30 meeting with my captain."

"Captain Kangaroo?" Mary Kate was puzzled when she looked at her father.

"No. Capt. Fuller. My boss," he explained, kissing her once again before leaving the house.

"Eddie said that he used to be my daddy's boss. Did you tell Eddie and Trap about my face?" Mary Kathryn asked, referring to her godfather and his caretaker.

"Yes, I took out an ad in the newspaper this morning," Jill put a glass of orange juice in front of her daughter.

"No orange juice," Mary Kathryn pushed the glass away. "It makes my mouth hurt. When do I get my doll?"

"What doll?"

"The doctor said that you and daddy have to buy me a doll. I heard him. Can I have a kitten instead?"

"I'll take you to the toy store on Saturday. We don't need any more animals."

"Thanks, mom."

Capt. Fuller was often harried first thing in the morning. There were always reports that had to be sent to the Chief of Police or the mayor or somebody else of equal importance. When Mike knocked on his door, he ushered him in quickly, hoping to get their meeting over just as quickly. "What's on your mind, Danko?"

"I'd like to request a new partner, sir."

"You and Brinker have been together for three years now. He's a good man. In fact, you and he make a formidable team. What seems to be the problem?"

Mike went over the problems that had been increasing ever since he'd first teamed up with the veteran detective. He ended with Brinker's attitude regarding Mary Kate's accident the day before. "It's not even the fact that he doesn't like kids. A lot of people don't like kids. I can live with that. But I do like kids. And I love my daughter very much. I don't think it's too much to ask that I jump when she gets hurt."

"No, it's not. Most parents react in just that way. Brinker's been married a couple of times, so it's soured him on the whole institution, if you know what I mean. Do you think that you can bring a new man up to speed on your current cases?"

"Yes, sir. Captain, normally I would just choke it up and keep working with the guy. But I already have an ulcer, so I don't need the stress."

"I'll have a talk with him, but I have to warn you that he's not going to take the news very well. Are you sure that you haven't tried talking to him?"

"Repeatedly. He promises to change, but it just gets worse."

"I'll talk to him. Is your daughter okay?"

"Yeah, if you can ignore the fact that she looks like she just stepped out of the ring with Ali," Mike's expression was rueful as the captain laughed.

Capt. Fuller waited until Mike left the room before walking over and opening the file cabinet and removing a thick manila folder from it. He walked back to his desk, opened the folder, and began reading. Words like 'insubordinate,' 'difficulty getting along with fellow officers' and 'excessive force' leapt from the page.

Lt. Steve Brinker had been a ticking time bomb for some time and Capt. Fuller had a feeling that Lt. Mike Danko had just lit a fuse under a huge keg of dynamite.

 **A/N #2: Eddie Ryker and Trap (T.R.) Applegate will be introduced in a future chapter.**

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	4. Decisions, Decisions and Revelations

**SUMMARY: Terry has a decision to make while Mike continues the investigation into the disappearance of Adam Mueller.**

 **A/N #1: I liked the relationship between Mike and Terry on 'The Rookies.' It was much different than the relationship that Terry had with Willie. I didn't notice this during the original run of the show but picked up on it after I started watching reruns of the show. I wasn't a fan of Terry when I originally watched the show. I became a fan much later.**

 **A/N #2: The song 'Jack & Diane' was written and sung by John Mellencamp.**

 **A/N #3: When Terry speaks to Serena about saving Jill's life, he's referring to the series finale 'Journey to Oblivion.'**

 **Chapter 4: Decisions, Decisions and Revelations**

"Have you decided what you're going to do?" Serena Hall looked at her boyfriend, Terry Webster, who was staring off into space.

"I'm weighing the pros and cons," he got up and began pacing around the living room.

"Okay. What have you come up with, so far?"

"It would be a promotion. We could do more around the house."

"True. Name a con."

"Mike outranks me."

"Are you going to stand there and tell me that's a problem?"

"No, of course not. We do work well together. We always have, even back in the day when we were rookies."

"You and William also work well together. Is he going to be jealous that Capt. Fuller offered you the promotion and not him?"

"No. Willie's mind doesn't operate like that. Now, Jen on the other hand—" he paused when Serena laughed.

"Are she and Jen still having issues? Mary Kate couldn't wait to show me her face. She came over here the day before yesterday just so I could see her stitches. You'd think she'd gotten into an Ivy League school or something," she chuckled when she thought about the little girl boasting about her battle scars.

"Mike told me that Jill had to talk to the school and explain what had happened. She was terrified that someone would call child services."

"I'm just glad that she wasn't more seriously hurt."

"So were Mike and Jill," Terry came over and sat back down.

"You really want to work with Mike, don't you?" 

"In a lot of ways, it'd be like old times again. I miss working with him, even if the only two things he ever talked about was Vietnam and Jill."

"Now you can add Mary Kate to his topics of conversation."

When Serena had started dating Terry more than two years before, one of the first things he'd told her was 'love me, love my friends.' She'd soon discovered how true this was. It seemed that none of the three men made a move without the other two. Weekends were usually spent at one of the three houses, barbecuing and hanging out. She'd always been made to feel included, but like Jen, she was included to a far lesser degree than Jill was.

Terry had explained that Jill was 'one of the guys.' But something had told her that there was much more to it than that. There were too many things that weren't talked about. She'd asked Terry about it many times over the years, but he refused to elaborate on why his relationship with Jill was so special.

"When are you going to tell Mike?"

"You know me too well," he smiled at her.

"I know some things about you very well. Other things, not so much."

"Why does everything come back to Jill? It's not what you're thinking. If it was, you can be damn sure that Mike and I would no longer be friends."

"He'd kill you, huh?" She grinned when he walked over and kissed her. "What was that for?"

"I saved her life," he revealed, causing her to look at him in surprise. "It was a while back when I was partners with Chris. Truth be told, we both saved her life. I got a plaque from the mayor and everything."

"Where was Mike?"

"He got shot when these two guys grabbed Jill. It's a long story, but the short version is she witnessed a murder and the guy decided that he had to shut her up. Please don't ever ask her about it. There are things that Jill doesn't talk about and that's just one thing on a very long list."

"What happened to the two guys?"

"We shot and killed one of them. The other one is serving 25 years to life."

"That must be a relief to Jill and Mike."

"You have no idea. I'm going to see if Mike wants to run with me. I'll be back."

Serena smiled to herself when Terry walked out the front door. She had known all along that he would agree to take the new partnership with Mike. She also knew that his main drawback was having to come up to speed on Mike's cases. Particularly, his current case involving the missing teenager. But Serena couldn't help but wonder how Mike's old partner was going to take the change.

She'd only met Lt. Brinker a few times, but in talking to Jill and Jennifer, the three women came to the conclusion that he wasn't going to be on any of their Christmas card lists.

None of them were quite sure what had prompted Mike to go to his captain and ask for the change. All Mike would say was that it had something to do with Mary Kate's accident a few days before. As far as he was concerned, that was all any of them needed to know. The one thing Serena had learned about Terry's friend was when a topic was closed, he meant it. He wouldn't say another word about it.

Mike, Terry and Seven jogged down the street toward their regular destination. The two men sat down at their regular picnic table while Seven lay down at Mike's feet. "Have you thought about it?" Mike asked.

"I've done nothing _but_ think about it since Fuller called me into his office. How many cases am I going to have to catch up on?"

"About 10 or so, but most of them are being wrapped up. Going to trial, stuff like that. I want us to devote our time trying to find Adam Mueller. I've got a bunch of interviews set up over the next few days. Interviews with Adam's friends, Albert Mueller's friends, crap like that. I also want to take another crack at him."

"I thought he wasn't talking except through his attorney."

"From what I hear, he's been talking, all right. He's saying just enough to avoid putting the noose around his neck."

"Why don't I try talking to him?" Terry suggested. "He's never met me."

"Are you saying that you're more charming than I am?"

"That's what my old lady tells me."

"Come on, Seven, let's go home," Mike picked up the dog's leash and they began a slow jog toward home.

Jill was bathing Mary Kathryn when Mike came back into the house. "Bobby Doyle asked me to marry him today," Mary Kathryn informed her mother.

"Really? What did you tell him?" Jill washed her daughter's back.

"Mom, I'm five!" Mary Kathryn reminded her. "How old were you when you married my daddy?"

"Too old."

"Did you say yes the first time he asked you to marry him?"

"Yes, I did," Jill kissed her on the forehead before reaching down and releasing the plug on the bathtub drain. "Come on, let's get out and see if daddy will read you a story before you go to sleep."

"I want to marry a boy just like my daddy," Mary Kathryn was decisive as Jill briskly rubbed her with a bath towel.

"Believe me, I also want you to marry someone just like your daddy," Jill agreed, helping Mary Kathryn into her pajamas. "What's wrong with Bobby Doyle?"

"Mom, he has red hair and dots all over his face!"

"Those are called freckles."

"Well, whatever they are, he has about a million of them. Anyway, I'm going to marry Trap," she said, referring to her mother's childhood friend.

"We'll just see what daddy has to say about that," Jill cleaned and doctored the cut on Mary Kathryn's chin.

"If Trap and I get married, I can ride horses every day and have all the kittens I want."

"We're not getting a cat, so get over it. Go downstairs to your daddy while I clean up in here."

Mike was on the back patio drinking a beer when the door slid opened and Mary Kate came outside in her pajamas and bare feet, climbing into his lap. "Daddy, you stink!" She wrinkled her nose.

"That's because I was running with Terry," he began tickling her as she howled in laughter.

"Daddy, stop!"

"Mike, you're going to get her all worked up and she'll never go to sleep. She wants you to read her a story."

"Now? But you just told me that I stink," he scowled at her as she made a face back at him.

"Please, daddy? You haven't read me a story in forever."

"Okay," he relented, standing up and picking up his small daughter as if she was a bag of potatoes. "Kiss mommy goodnight," he held her down so that Jill could kiss her.

"Goodnight, sweetie. Sweet dreams and don't let the bedbugs bite."

"Daddy, what do bedbugs look like, anyway?" Jill heard Mary Kathryn ask Mike as he took her into the house.

Jill was flipping channels on the TV when Mike came back downstairs nearly half an hour later. Now it was her turn to make faces when her husband sat down and slipped an arm around her. "How far did you and Terry run? You need to take a shower," instead of answering, he began kissing her on the neck.

"Join me," he whispered in her ear, pulling back when she started laughing. "What's so funny?"

"What did they slip in the water fountain at the park?"

"Nothing," he looked at her earnestly. "I just happen to be in a very good mood, and I want to spread the joy."

"Terry agreed?" She stared at him as he grinned and nodded. "Oh sweetheart, that's wonderful!"

"Does that mean that you'll join me in the shower?"

After taking a shower, Jill crept across the hallway to check on Mary Kathryn. The little girl was sound asleep, her thumb in her mouth and her favorite stuffed animal at her side. She walked in and straightened the covers around her and left the room, pulling her door partially closed behind her. She then returned to hers' and Mike's room and closed the door before locking it. "Why are you locking the door?" Mike was watching her from their bed.

"Because the last time I forgot to lock our door, she walked in and wanted to know why we were wrestling," she reminded him watching him turn red and start laughing.

"I forgot. What about the other time when she stuck her fingers under the door? Talk about a mood breaker. Are you sure that you want another one?" He asked, watching her remove her robe and get into bed next to him.

"I'm positive that I want another one," she pulled him closer and kissed him. After they made love, she lay in his arms and listened to the rapid beating of his heart in her ear. "Oh, I almost forgot. Mary Kathryn received a marriage proposal today."

"Which boy do I need to use my shotgun on?"

"Bobby Doyle. But she told him no. He has red hair and freckles, which are deal breakers in her book. Besides, she told me that she's going to marry Trap," she craned her neck up to see his reaction. She didn't have long to wait.

"Over my dead body."

She rolled over and leaned her head on his chest. "She could do worse."

"No comment."

"You're getting old."

"Tell me about it."

"I just noticed that your chest hair is turning gray. I knew that I turned the hair on your head gray, but this is a new one," she began laughing as he grabbed her and rolled her over.

"I'll show you who's getting old," he growled as he moved his way down her body.

In the months to come, Jill would find her mind returning to this night. She would remember it as the last night that Mike was truly in a good mood.

While the mood at both the Danko's and Terry's house could be described as festive, unfortunately, the same couldn't be said of the Gillis house. William sat back and listened to his wife rant and rave, much as she'd been doing for most of the afternoon and into this evening.

If William had to pick an adjective to describe Jennifer, the word 'high-strung' immediately came to mind. He knew that most of it had come from her upbringing. Her parents' only child, she had been spoiled beyond belief. She'd also been taught by her mother that she had to have things her way. William had learned this while they were dating. But he loved her enough to mistakenly think that once they were married, things would change, and Jennifer would learn the art of compromise. But the word compromise wasn't in his wife's vocabulary.

Tonight, she was upset because William's former roommate and partner, Terry Webster, had been offered a promotion and William hadn't. "You both took the detectives test," she reminded him as she walked back and forth in front of the fireplace. "Why did Capt. Fuller offer him the promotion and not you? I thought that you and Mike were friends, too."

"Jennifer, it doesn't have anything to do with who I'm friends with," he gently pointed out. "I'm not even sure if Terry's name coming up was even Mike's idea."

"Bullshit!" She hissed at him. "He and Mike are as thick as thieves. They go running together in the evenings; they're always joking around together. Where does that leave you?"

"You know what? You're starting to sound like one of the kids. Yes, Terry and I took the detective test at the same time. He scored higher than I did. Plus, I left Santa Costa for almost five years. In that amount of time, Terry was able to get his name around in the department while I was slaving away, writing jaywalking tickets in Ohio. In case you haven't noticed, you don't exactly make detective by busting jaywalkers!"

"Plus, there's Jill."

"What in the hell is up your ass about Jill? Jill has nothing to do with who gets promoted in the Santa Costa Police Department!"

"There's nothing up my ass about Jill. But there's something that we don't know about. That is why Mike is friendlier with Terry. Have you ever asked what that something is?"

"I know all about it," she stared at him in shock. "Why don't you ask Jill what that something is? Listen," he got up and walked over to her, placing his hands on her shoulder. "In Mike's eyes, I was always the kid. To some extent, I still am. When I first met them, I used to do some incredibly stupid stuff."

"Like what?" Jennifer was intrigued. She didn't know too much about the life William had led in California before he returned to Ohio.

"Jill didn't like me and Terry when she first met us. Terry caught on much more quickly than I did. There were times when Jill just wanted to be alone with Mike. We were used to how it was when we went to the academy together. We just assumed that nothing would change once Mike reunited with Jill."

"What do you mean once he reunited with her? You've never told me any of this."

"I never saw a reason to. When we first met Mike, we didn't know that he was married. It's complicated and I still don't know the whole story. But I was with him the day that he decided to try to reconnect with her. We did our best to make sure that she was always 'one of the guys.' But at first, she didn't want to be one of the guys. She wanted to get to know her husband again. If looks could've killed, I think they Terry and I would've dropped dead 1000 times over."

"So, what's the story with Terry and Jill?" 

"Terry and Jill always had a different relationship than the one that I had with her. Jill and I are only a couple of years apart in age, but she always seemed so much older. I was always just a kid to her just like I am with Mike. But I'll tell you one thing," he smiled.

"What's that?"

"If it hadn't been for Jill, I probably would've married Nancy," he said, referring to an old girlfriend.

"She made you break up with Nancy?" Jen was amused.

"No, but after talking to Jill, Nancy broke up with me. She decided that being married to a cop wasn't for her. She saw too much of what Jill went through."

"Nancy broke up with you after you got shot and nearly died," she reminded him.

"Well, there was that, too. But notice that I always tell you that I love you before I walk out that door. I learned that lesson from Jill. Keep that in mind the next time you go on one of your rants."

"What about the way they are with Mary Kate? You told me the night that she got hurt that I didn't understand how they were when it comes to her. Why don't you explain that to me now?"

"I can't. You'll have to ask Jill and then you'll have to hope that she tells you."

"What is it with you people and your secrets?" She shouted at him.

"Would you please keep your voice down?" He looked toward the stairs. "It has nothing to do with secrets, Jennifer. It has to do with things that are too painful to talk about. Now, would you please let this go? If you want to know more about why Terry was offered the detective slot instead of me, why don't you call my commanding officer?"

"I just don't understand why you just let everything roll off you. One of the things that I've always loved about you is your laid-back personality, but sometimes you're too laid-back."

"I've learned when to pick my battles and when to just let things go. There are only so many detective slots, Jen. Some cops wait for years for someone to retire to get a slot. Believe me when I tell you that my time will come."

Lt. Steve Brinker was on his way to his desk the next morning when he heard his name being called. "Brinker, I need to see you in my office right now!"

Brinker turned to find Capt. Joe Fuller standing in his doorway. "Yes, sir," Brinker said agreeably as he walked into the office.

"Shut the door and have a seat," the captain ordered, waiting while Brinker complied with his request. "I want you and O'Brien to wrap up your current cases while Danko and Webster work exclusively on the Mueller case."

"Did you say Webster? Isn't he working GTA?"

"I'm moving him up here effective today. We're playing Beat the Clock here. We need to find that missing boy, so I want two men working on it full time."

"Excuse me, sir, but Danko and I were working on the Mueller case. We have interviews set up for this week, as a matter of fact."

"I think that you and Danko need a break from each other."

"May I ask if this was his idea or yours?"

"Does it matter? After all, I am the commander of this unit. If you have a problem with your assignment, Lieutenant, then take it up with the chief of detectives. Dismissed!"

Later that morning, Terry entered the precinct at the same time as Willie. "I have to ask," Terry grinned at his former partner, "how your old lady took the news of my promotion."

"She went ballistic until I told her that it's not my time. I think she thinks that it's a conspiracy that Mike and Jill have cooked up. These days it seems that she blames Jill for everything."

"Yeah, I'm sure that Mike and Jill lay in bed at night thinking of ways to mess with Jennifer's world. I'll see you later," Terry called out, heading for the stairs leading to Major Crimes.

Mike was showing Terry where he could set up operations when Brinker approached the two men. "Congratulations on the promotion, Webster," he turned to Mike. "Can I talk to you for a few minutes?"

The two men stepped away from the rest of the squad room as Mike looked at his former partner. "What do you want?" Mike asked.

"Was this your idea? Was it because of what I said about your kid? You need to develop a thicker skin, Danko."

"I just think that this is what's best for both of us," Mike said, regretting the words as soon as he said them. He thought that it sounded like he was breaking up with his girlfriend.

"You have no idea who you're messing with," Brinker hissed. "I _trained_ you. Without me, you'd be _nothing_. How dare you think that I'm going to clean up your mess!"

"If you have a problem, go talk to Fuller," Mike started to walk away.

Brinker watched his former partner walk off. Deep inside he knew that Danko's old lady had put him up to this. The bitch had never liked him. He'd have to teach her a lesson about messing with the wrong person.

Later that morning, Terry was sitting in the visitor's room of the jail when the door opened, and a guard led Albert Mueller into the room. After the prisoner took a seat, the guard attached his handcuff to a ring in the table. "No offense, man, but I'd rather talk to the white dick that I talked to the other day. He and I have more in common," Mueller smirked as he sat back in his chair, watching Terry carefully.

"Well, right now, I'm all you've got," Terry opened a folder and began looking over his notes that had been made by the jail guards.

"He's watching us right now, isn't he?" Albert looked toward the wire-encased window and waved his free hand. "Are we playing 'good cop, bad cop?' Because I can play that game all day long."

"I'm not playing games with you, Mueller. Let's talk about the lesson that you 'taught' Adam. Isn't that what you told your cellmate? That you had to teach Adam a lesson? Why don't we talk about that lesson?"

"My cellmate obviously has a big mouth. Adam was a smart mouth kid. As soon as he became a teenager, it was a constant battle between him and me. He had to be kept in line. My old man did that to me, and I turned out just fine."

Terry couldn't help but notice how Mueller had referred to Adam in the past tense. "You must really hate your old lady."

"Why do you say that?"

"She's a mother and you took her child away from her. Why don't you just tell me what you did with him so that we can give her some peace."

"Greta doesn't deserve any peace. The only reason that I married her is because my mother shoved her and that damn kid down my throat. 'Marry a good German girl' my mother was

always telling me. Why in the hell would I want to marry someone like my mother?"

"I don't know, but apparently you did. Where is Adam?"

"I want to go back to my cell," Mueller was sullen. "I won't talk again until I can talk to the other guy."

Terry got up and rapped on the door, waiting for the guard to enter and take Mueller back to his cell. He then stepped out of the room and walked down the hall, where he found Mike waiting for him. "He's going to be a tough nut to crack," he informed him.

"He wants to talk to me because he thinks he can get inside my head. His ex-wife warned me about it."

"He spoke of Adam in the past tense."

"Come on, let's go to the high school and talk to Adam's friends. This afternoon, we'll go to the Sheriff's Department and talk to Mueller's friends."

Mike arranged with the principal at the high school to talk to two of Adam's best friends. The two teenagers and the two detectives met in the teacher's lounge. "Are we in trouble?" Rich Caldwell asked once Mike and Terry had introduced themselves. Rich was a good-looking kid, almost six feet tall with the solid build of a football player.

"No, you're not in trouble," Mike was quick to assure the young man. "We wanted to talk to you about Adam Mueller. I understand that you're his best friend."

"Yeah, since junior high."

Mike looked at the other youth sitting across from him and Terry. Henry Guerra was also a member of the high school football team. "What about you, Henry? How long have you known Adam?"

"Four or five years. We used to play baseball together until his old man put a stop to it."

"How well do you boys know Mr. Mueller?" Terry asked.

"Too well. When we were kids, he was a cool guy. He'd take us camping and fishing. You know, guy stuff. Adam's father died when he was small, so he'd never had anyone to do that stuff with," Rich told the two detectives.

"When did things change?" Mike asked.

"I don't know," Rich shrugged. "It wasn't a sudden change. It just seemed like he started to get pissed off about certain things. Adam got the hell beat out of him for getting a B in Geometry. I told him that my father would be doing back flips if I got a B in math."

"Did Adam ever say anything about his stepdad?"

"About what?" Henry wanted to know.

"About anything."

"Mr. Mueller gave Adam a car for his birthday," Rich remembered. "But Adam rarely got to drive it. He said his old man was constantly grounding him and taking the car keys away from him."

"He told me that he wanted to leave, but he didn't want to leave his mom and little sister alone with his dad," Henry added.

"Did he ever say why?" Mike asked.

"He said that Mr. Mueller would get drunk and raise hell with his mom. He said that he hit her a couple of times," Henry told them.

"When was the last time either of you saw Adam?" Mike took notes on his pad.

"The day before he disappeared. He told me that he was supposed to be meeting someone the following Monday morning. I don't know who he was meeting or why," Rich said.

"He was going to be meeting someone the day after he vanished?" Mike wanted to be sure he had heard Rich correctly.

"Yes, sir. That's what he told me. I know that he was worried about Erika for some reason. Is Erika okay?"

"Erika's fine," Mike assured him. "If either of you think of anything else, call me," he handed each of them his card. "My home phone number is on the back. If you think of anything, no matter how trivial you think it might be, you can call me. I don't care what time it is. Please pass the word around to Adam's friends and your other classmates."

"Lt. Danko, do you think that Adam's dead?" Henry asked.

"I don't know, son. We're doing our best to find him. You boys had better get back to class."

"What do you think?" Terry asked when they left the school and made their way back to Mike's car.

"I want to find out who Adam was going to be meeting with."

"Do you think he told anybody who he was meeting?"

"I don't know. The more that I investigate this case, the less I like the smell of it. Mueller's talking about Adam in the past tense; the fact that the kid was meeting someone. It all adds up to something ugly. Let's go talk to Mueller's friends and then we'll meet with Greta Mueller again."

"You do realize that Mueller's friends are probably covering for him," Terry pointed out.

"I know. But we might get lucky. Welcome to my world, Sgt. Webster," Mike grinned at his best friend.

"Yeah, your world is different than GTA, that's for damn sure."

Just as Terry had predicted, Mueller's friends described him as being a prince among men. After an aggravating hour interviewing a few of them, Mike and Terry drove to Greta Mueller's job to interview her once more. "One of Adam's friends told us that he was supposed to be meeting someone the day after he disappeared," Mike informed her, noticing her look of surprise. "Did he say anything to you about a possible meeting?"

"No, not a word."

"Is it possible that he might've written down the appointment and left it in his room somewhere?" Terry asked.

"It's possible. When I get home this afternoon, I will look in his room and let you know either way."

"Thank you, Mrs. Mueller."

"What did Brinker say to you?" Terry asked when they were driving back to the precinct.

"He didn't exactly congratulate me on my choice of partners. Don't worry about him."

"Did he threaten you?"

"No," Mike scoffed at the idea. "He's just feeling put out. Let's grab some lunch and we'll go over out notes."

"That's the best idea I've heard all morning."

Back at the precinct, Mike and Terry parted ways with Terry going to his desk to start updating reports while Mike called the jail and ordered that Mueller be brought to the visitors' room when he got there.

Mike was waiting when a jail guard brought Mueller to the visitor's room and cuffed him to the ring in the table. "So, you decided to talk to me yourself instead of sending in your hired boy," Mueller commented nastily.

"Who was Adam going to meet with?" Mike asked, cutting right to the chase, ignoring Mueller's racist comment about Terry.

"Who told you that Adam was going to be meeting with anybody?"

"Adam did," Mike bluffed, watching Mueller's facial expression for a reaction.

"That's interesting," Mueller rocked on the back legs of his chair, pondering Mike's response. "I heard about your little girl's accident. That must've been scary for you and your old lady."

Mike's heart began to race as he looked across the table at the one and only suspect in the disappearance of his stepson. How had he learned about Mary Kate and Jill? "I must say that you have some loyal friends," he said instead as he fought to regain his bearings. "They'd rather cover your ass than admit what a lowlife scumbag you really are."

"We watch out for each other. I'm sure that your friends are the same way. As for Adam and his supposed meeting, I don't know what you're talking about. What were you? Army? Air Force? Marines? I don't take you for a Navy type."

"We're not here to talk about me."

"Sure, we are," Mueller disagreed, setting the chair back on all four legs. "You see, Lt. Danko, I can find out anything that I want about you. All it takes is the right question to the right person and I'm off and running. Would you like to know what I know, so far? You've been married for 11 years to a lady named Jill and you have a five-year-old daughter named Mary Kathryn. I can even tell you whom she is named after. Shall I continue?" He gave Mike an evil smirk.

"I'm going to find out what happened to your son," Mike said, getting up and walking over to the locked door and rapping on it loudly. "And, when I do, they're going to put you _under_ the jail with the rest of the belly-crawlers. Get him out of here!" Mike shouted when the guard entered the room.

Mike was still fuming when he returned to the precinct. He pulled out his chair with more force than was necessary as Brinker and Terry both glanced up from their paperwork. "Bad interview?" Brinker asked, which earned him a glare from Mike. "He's not going to tell you what you want to know unless you give him something in return. You should know that by now."

"He's already gotten something in return!" Mike got up and walked over to Brinker's desk. "He knows about my family! Do you know anything about that?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Brinker replied innocently, staring Mike down. "Why don't you go back to your desk and let me get back to my work, menial as it is."

"All I have to do is go and look at the visitor's log at the jail."

"Go look at it. You're not going to find my name on it. Knock yourself out. After all, you're the one who likes going on wild goose chases."

Mike was still in a foul mood when he got home later that afternoon. Jill was in the back of the house doing laundry while Mary Kate played upstairs in her room.

Jill was removing clothes from the dryer when Mary Kathryn appeared in the doorway with her doll. The doll was as tall as the little girl and had straps on her feet which allowed Mary Kathryn to strap them to her own feet and walk around the house or dance with her. "I'm bored," she complained, watching her mother put another load of clothes in the dryer.

"Why don't you go outside and play with Seven?" Jill suggested, turning on the dryer.

"Why won't my daddy come and play with me?"

"Sweetie, daddy's busy. Why don't you go and play by yourself for a while until he's not so busy?"

"He's not busy," Mary Kathryn argued. "He's grumpy like he needs a nap."

Jill bit her lip to keep from laughing. "I think that he just had a rough day at work. Go and play now."

"Can I listen to the radio in my room?"

"Yes. Not real loud," Jill agreed, watching Mary Kathryn happily leaving the room, dragging her doll behind her.

Mary Kathryn ran upstairs to her room and turned on her small portable radio. The sound of the local rock station filled the room, delighting the small girl.

Mike was on his phone in his office downstairs when he began hearing what sounded like a small stampede going on over his head. "Listen, can I call you right back?" He asked his caller. "I'll call you back in about five minutes." He hung up and walked to the doorway of his office, sticking his head out. "Jill! I'm on the phone in here! Could you please do something about Mary Kate? Jill!"

When he didn't get a response, he took the stairs two at a time up to Mary Kate's bedroom. He stopped in the doorway and just stood there staring at his daughter.

Mary Kate was standing in the middle of her bed, holding a pencil to her mouth like a makeshift microphone and singing at the top of her lungs with the radio. "So, let it rock! Let it roll! Let the Bible Belt come and save your soul! Hold on to 16 as long as you can! Changes come along real soon make us women and men!"

Then, with every ounce of energy that she could muster, she made a giant leap from her bed, stopping short when she saw the very angry face of her father standing in her doorway. "What do you think you're doing?" He asked, his voice lowering by degrees.

"Singing," she answered in a small voice as she looked up at him. Suddenly, her daddy seemed taller than ever.

"What have I told you about jumping on the furniture?"

"Not to."

"Mary Kathryn, I was on the phone downstairs. I don't have time for your nonsense right now. Until you can start doing what you're told to do, you can come downstairs and sit down."

"I won't jump on the furniture, anymore," she vowed, protesting when Mike picked her up in his arms. "I'll be quiet, daddy. I promise."

"I know you will," he walked downstairs with her. "You're going to get 20 minutes to sit and think about being quiet."

"Not 20 minutes!" Mary Kate protested, bursting into loud sobs of displeasure. "Daddy, stop!"

Jill heard the commotion from the laundry room. Thinking that Mary Kathryn was hurt, she raced toward the living room just as Mike was placing their daughter in his recliner. "Where's the timer?" He asked Jill.

"In the kitchen," she answered. Mike left the living room, returning a moment later with the kitchen timer. He set it and placed it on the fireplace mantel, out of Mary Kathryn's reach. "What're you doing?"

"Why can't you keep her out of my hair for half an hour? Is that too much to ask?" He ignored her question and stormed back into his office. "Mary Kathryn, if you get out of that chair before I hear that timer go off, I'll come out here and spank you! Do you understand me?"

Jill was too taken aback to even come up with a response as Mike's office door slammed closed. She looked at Mary Kathryn, who was sniveling in his chair. "What were you doing up there, Mary Kathryn?"

"Singing. Why is my daddy mad at me?"

"I don't know," she leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "Stay here while I go talk to daddy." Jill walked into Mike's small office without knocking before carefully closing the door behind her. "What in the hell has crawled up you and died?"

"I'm trying to find a missing kid!" He hissed at her. "I was trying to talk on the phone while our daughter was upstairs jumping off the furniture!"

"No, Michael," Jill disagreed with him. "You've been trying to find Adam Mueller for almost a month now. Before now, it hasn't made you this angry. All _our_ daughter was doing was being a typical five-year-old. What else is bothering you?" She sat on the edge of his desk.

"How can he sit there and not care about his stepson?" Mike answered her question with one of his own. "I know that Adam wasn't his flesh and blood, but he raised him. Today . . . I shouldn't let it get to me."

"You shouldn't let what get to you?" Jill began feeling uneasy.

"Jill, he made a comment about Mary Kate's accident. I can't find out who fed him information about Mary Kate." His eyes were wide and wild. "Brinker denies it and as far as I can tell, his visitors don't know anything about my family. I don't want him in my head!"

"Can't they assign the case to another team?"

"No. I have to find that boy if it's the last thing I do. Mary Kate must think that I'm a monster!" He grabbed his forehead in his hands.

"No, she doesn't," she took his hands and squeezed them. "But she is very confused right now. Why don't you take her and pick something up for dinner?" She smiled at him.

"You do know that we're rewarding her for bad behavior?" He reminded her with a rueful grin.

"We'll lock her in the basement later," Jill teased him.

"We don't have a basement," he got up and walked around his desk, pulling her into his arms and holding her, trying to ignore his conversation with Albert Mueller and trying to ignore the sensation of him in his head.

Watching her husband leave the room, Jill couldn't ignore the feeling that things were only going to get worse the longer this case dragged on. She found herself wondering if any of them would still be sane when it was all over.

 **A/N #4: Let me just say that things are about to get a lot crazier.**

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	5. Please Tell Me There's Daylight

**SUMMARY: Mike's obsession with finding Adam Mueller begins to take its toll on his personal life.**

 **A/N #1: Since this chapter takes place in October, I'm going to add a little about Halloween. Chuck's brother doesn't believe in Halloween. At first, I thought his dislike was based on religion, but he finally explained to me that he considers it nothing more than a form of begging. His children have never been trick or treating. After a while, they didn't ask to go anymore. Not being allowed to be like everyone else is hard, especially on a five-year-old. Mary Kate is going to learn that in this chapter.**

 **A/N #2: In this chapter, Mike is going to commit the unforgiveable sin of forgetting his wife's birthday. As all of us ladies know, other than forgetting anniversaries and Valentine's Day, this is a major sin.**

 **The book 'The Five Little Peppers and How They Grew' was written by Margaret Sidney.**

 **A/N #3: There are also going to be several references in this chapter to various things. One reference is made to the movie 'The Deer Hunter' written by Michael Cimino. Jill makes references to 'The Rookies' episodes, 'Dirge For Sunday,' written by Jaron Summers and William Blinn, and 'One Way Street to Nowhere' written by Mathais Reitz.**

 **Chapter 5: Please Tell Me There's Daylight at the End of This (October)**

Mike and Jill were sound asleep early on a Saturday morning when Mary Kate burst into the room and leaped onto the bed, settling in between the two of them. "Daddy!" She vigorously shook Mike. "Daddy wake up! It's Saturday! We have to go to Mamie's for my piano lesson!"

Mike groaned and rolled over. "What time is it?" He mumbled into his pillow.

"The little hand is on the seven and the big hand is on the nine. Get up," she shook him once again before standing up and jumping on the bed.

"Mary Kathryn, what have you been told about jumping on the bed?" Jill asked.

"Thomas jumps on his bed any time he wants to," she continued jumping.

"You don't live in Thomas' house. You live in this one and I don't want you jumping on the bed!" Jill ordered. Mary Kathryn immediately stopped and flopped back down between her parents. "Go get dressed and daddy will be up in a few minutes."

"Will he make pancakes?" Jill glared at her in response. "Okay, I'm going."

"Why can't she be one of those kids that sleep until 10 o'clock?" Mike groaned once Mary Kate had left the room.

"It's Saturday," Jill reminded him. "Your mother is expecting you."

Every Saturday, Mike took Mary Kate to her grandparents' house for her piano lesson, and then they'd spend the day together. This gave Jill time to clean house or do whatever she needed to do. With the Mueller case pressing so heavily on Mike, Jill felt that it was especially important that he maintain his ritual with his daughter.

"Daddy!" Mary Kate called from the doorway. "Get up and make pancakes!"

"Hey," Mike called back. "Don't order me around. Only your mother is allowed to do that."

"Excuse me?" Jill nudged him, rolling her eyes when he grinned at her.

After breakfast, Jill combed Mary Kathryn's hair back and made sure that she was dressed neatly enough for her grandmother. "Why can't I wear shorts?" Mary Kathryn complained when Jill finished her hair.

"Because Mamie thinks little girls should wear dresses."

"Thomas said that he's going to be Batman for Halloween. What can I be?"

"We'll talk about that later. Let me look at you," Jill smiled when she turned Mary Kathryn around. "You look very pretty. Mind your manners and I'll see you this afternoon."

"Is my daddy taking me to the pier?"

"I don't know where your daddy is taking you after your piano lesson. Have fun."

On the drive over to his parents' house, Mike half-listened to Mary Kate's babbling, throwing in the appropriate responses when needed. "Daddy, what do you think that I should be for Halloween?" She asked, as Mike glanced at her through the rearview mirror.

"You're not going trick or treating, Mary Kate."

"Why? Thomas is going. So are Rainbow and my other friends."

"Rainbow," he made a face.

"Rainbow's my bestest friend."

"Best friend," Mike corrected her.

"That's what I said. She's going to be Strawberry Shortcake. I think that I want to be Wednesday Addams. I have a black dress and black tights. Mom can braid my hair and I can take the head off one of my Barbies," Mary Kate was decisive.

"You're not going trick or treating," Mike's tone was also decisive.

"Why? Everybody else is," she argued.

"Mary Kathryn, we're not going to talk about this now. I don't want to hear another word about it. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir," she slouched back in the seat. Her daddy was so grouchy lately. Everybody was saying so, she thought to herself.

When they walked into his parents' house, Mike was once again amazed at the genuine affection that his parents lavished on Mary Kate. They fussed over her as if she was their only grandchild.

His mother took her into the music room for her piano lesson while he went out onto the back patio with his father. "I've been reading a lot about you in the newspaper lately," his father noted as both men sat at the round glass patio table. "Has the stepfather said anything?"

"No. I really don't want to talk about it," Mike poured himself a cup of coffee. 

"How does Mary Kathryn like school?" Jonathan Danko asked, changing the subject.

"I think she likes it," Mike smiled. "She certainly has a fair number of boys chasing her on the playground."

"I'd expect nothing less," Mr. Danko said, causing Mike to look at him in surprise. "I mean, she's a lovely little girl. Don't you agree?"

"Well, as her father, I am somewhat prejudiced," Mike said.

"She needs a brother or sister. It's not fair to keep her an only child."

Mike didn't respond to that. It was somewhat uncomfortable discussing your sex life with a parent. Or, in the case of him and Jill lately, the lack of a sex life. He was finding himself so wrapped up in the Mueller case that sex was the furthest thing from his mind. Leads were few and far between and Albert Mueller was still playing his bizarre game of telling them nothing.

His reverie was broken by his mother and Mary Kate coming out on the back patio. "This one is as clever as you were," his mother leaned down and kissed Mike on the forehead. "I see Juilliard in her future." 

"What's Juilliard?" Mary Kate took a cinnamon roll from a plate and took a bite.

"It's a famous school in New York where pianists and actors go to school. The best pianists in the world study there." Mamie told her. "Did you ask Michael about Thanksgiving, Poppy?"

"Everybody's going to be there," Jonathan told Mike. "For the first time in a long time, all of the children and grandchildren will be here. Of course, you, Jill, and Mary Kathryn must be here, too."

"Sure," Mike answered half-heartedly, knowing full well how Jill was going to feel about attending the three-ring circus that was his family.

"Mary Kathryn must get to know her cousins. Your friends are fine people, but they aren't your true family, Michael."

"Mary Kate, why don't you go inside and play?" Mike suggested, wishing that his father would be more careful about what he said in front of the little girl. "I want Mary Kate to know her family, Pop. But you need to be more careful about what you say in front of her. She's a parrot. She repeats everything that she hears. As for my friends, they are my family, too. And, they always will be."

"Michael, your mother and I did the best that we could. We sent you away to school because we didn't know what else to do."

"You know, I get upset at Mary Kate for doing silly little things that I don't think she should be doing. When Jill feels that I'm a little harsher on her than I should be, she's fond of reminding me that Mary Kate is just being a typical five-year-old. I think back to when I was a kid and I think that I was just being a typical seven-year-old. Nothing more, nothing less. We'll see you next Saturday."

Driving toward the Santa Monica pier, Mike found himself remembering back to when he was sent away. His brother David had asked him on more than one occasion why he couldn't just let it go. It had happened so long ago and yet he still carried a grudge. One part of him remembered that seven-year-old that he'd been and wanted to know why he was being sent away.

As they walked along the pier, Mary Kate held onto Mike's hand, looking up at him. To her, he was the best daddy in the whole world, even when he was grumpy. "Is my Aunt Claudia going to be at Thanksgiving?"

"Poppy said that all your aunts and your Uncle David will be there. Your cousins, too."

"Will Willie and Jennifer be there?"

"No."

"Will Terry and Serena be there?"

"No."

"But what if mom wants to have Thanksgiving with them? We always have Thanksgiving with them. For all my life."

"I'm sure that they'll have their own plans for Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving's still a long way away. Do you want a snow cone?"

"Can we ride the Ferris Wheel?"

"Yes. Now, do you want a snow cone?"

"Yes," she answered, as they walked over to the booth. "Daddy, why can't Willie and everybody come to our Thanksgiving at Mamie and Poppy's house? I don't want them to have their own plans."

Mike bought two grape snow cones and led Mary Kate over to a bench where they could both watch the surfers. "Sweetie, Thanksgiving is about families. I know that you don't understand, but you will when you're older."

"No. I understand now. It's like not being invited to a birthday party when everybody else is. And, it's not fair."

"I agree that it's not fair. Maybe we can do something before Thanksgiving with just the guys and their families. Would that be okay?"

"I guess," she sighed, staring out to sea. "Can I go wading today?"

"No, the water's too cold. Finish your snow cone and we'll get on the Ferris Wheel."

Jill was making spaghetti when she heard the garage door going up. Moments later, the door opened, and she heard Mary Kathryn's scampering footsteps on the tile. She ran over and hugged Jill tightly around the waist. Jill looked at her husband in surprise. She didn't usually get this kind of a reception following Mary Kathryn's Saturdays with her dad. "I missed you today, mom!"

"I missed you, too," Jill continued looking at Mike, who simply shrugged. "I hope that daddy didn't spoil your supper too much."

"We only had snow cones," Mike told her, walking over and kissing her. "I've got paperwork to catch up on before dinner."

"Dinner will be ready in about an hour," she told him, looking down at Mary Kathryn, who looked tousled and windblown from her day at the pier. "How was your piano lesson?"

"Can we go to Eddie's next Saturday?" Mary Kathryn climbed onto a barstool to watch her mother finish dinner.

"I'm sure that daddy will take you as soon as you finish your piano lesson," Jill began rolling meatballs.

"No. I want to go to Eddie's _instead_ of going to Mamie's."

"What happened at Mamie's?" Jill walked over to the counter that separated her from her daughter.

"Nothing. They just give my daddy too many bad ideas."

"And, just what 'bad ideas' do you think Mamie and Poppy are giving to your daddy?"

"They want us to have Thanksgiving without Willie, Terry, Jennifer, Serena, Thomas, and Natalie because they're not our really family. And, they don't want to invite them. But they are our really family, aren't they, mom?"

"We will talk about all of this later. Right now, I want you to change out of your dress and into your play clothes."

"Is New York far away?" Mary Kathryn jumped off the barstool.

"Pretty far away," Jill wondered where her small daughter's mind was heading now. Two seconds before, she'd been concerned about Thanksgiving.

"As far as Eddie's?"

"Farther than that."

"As far as the beach?"

"Do you remember when we got on a plane and went to Florida?" Mary Kathryn nodded. "New York is even farther away than Florida. Why?"

"I was just wondering."

"Okay. Well, go change your clothes, please."

Mary Kathryn slowly made her way up the stairs to her room. She didn't understand why her Mamie would tell her daddy to send her so far away to school. She decided that if she started playing piano very badly, Mamie would change her mind about wanting her to go away to school.

Mike was reading when he looked up to see Jill standing in his office doorway. "Is dinner ready?" He glanced at his watch.

"Not quite," she walked in and closed the door behind her. "Do you have something to tell me about Thanksgiving?"

"Yeah," he removed his reading glasses. "My whole family is going to be there. My parents would really like for us to be there, too. As my father said, Mary Kate needs to get to know her cousins."

"They said all this in front of her?" Jill could feel her ire starting to rise. "Mike, they need to start watching what they say around her. She knows that Willie and Terry aren't invited with their families, and she's very upset about it. To quote her, they give you 'bad ideas.'"

"I told them today that they need to watch what they say around her. I tried to explain to Mary Kate how things are when we were out today. She thinks it's unfair, but I think she understands how things are."

"Mike, she's five," she reminded him. "She's not old enough to understand 'how things are.' Hell, I'm a grown woman, and I still don't understand how things are with them half the time. Please, go get her and tell her that dinner's almost ready."

Twenty minutes later, Mike sighed, watching Mary Kate push her dinner around her plate. Spaghetti was usually a huge favorite, so he was surprised that she wasn't digging in. "Mary Kate, I don't think that Poppy meant to hurt your feelings by saying that Willie and Terry aren't invited to Thanksgiving dinner."

"Then, why can't he invite them?"

"Sweetie, Terry and Willie are my best friends in the world, and they always will be. But best friends aren't the same as family."

"Then, why is Eddie my godfather when he isn't family?"

"Good question," Jill leaned on her elbows, eager to see how her husband was going to answer that question.

"I know that we always have holiday dinners together, but there's nothing wrong with doing things differently for just one time. Mary Kate, you have a lot of cousins that have never met you. Not since you were a baby, anyway. It'll be fun," he assured her, ignoring both hers' and Jill's somewhat dubious expressions.

"Mom—"

"Eat your dinner," Jill admonished her.

After dinner, Mike went back to his office as Jill cleaned up and Mary Kate played in her room. After her bath, she came into her father's office to kiss him goodnight. Mary Kate walked over and looked up at the map of the United States that was tacked on the wall. Easily finding California, she sounded out words while she searched for New York. She finally found it on the other side of the map. To the little girl, it looked as far away as the moon. "What're you looking for?" Mike walked over and knelt beside his daughter.

"Nothing. I see it now," she turned toward her father.

"Goodnight, sweetie," he hugged and kissed her, inhaling the clean scents of soap and shampoo. "Sweet dreams."

A short time later, Jill came upstairs with an armload of Mary Kathryn's toys that had been left downstairs. Stopping in the doorway, she was surprised to hear sniffling coming from the room. "Mary Kathryn? What's wrong?" Jill entered the room. "Are you sick?"

"No," the little girl sat up and wiped at her eyes and face.

"Are you still upset about Thanksgiving?" Jill switched on the moon and stars lamp by Mary Kathryn's bed. "Your daddy's right. You're going to have a great time with your cousins."

"I don't want to play the piano anymore!" Mary Kathryn wailed, throwing herself into Jill's arms.

"Mary Kathryn, what in the world is going on? Stop crying and talk to me. Why don't you want to play piano, anymore?"

"Mamie wants daddy to send me away!"

"Mamie wants daddy to do what? Mary Kathryn, your daddy would never send you away," she tried to assure the child, who only cried harder in response.

"She told daddy that I should go to Junkyard in New York. I looked at the map in daddy's office! That's a million miles away!"

"Do you mean Juilliard?" Jill asked, watching Mary Kathryn nod. "That's a school for older kids. If you went there, it would be after you finished with all your other schooling. Not right now. Nobody is going to send you away, especially not me and your daddy. If Mamie thinks you should go to Juilliard, that means that you're a very good pianist. Only the best pianists in the world get to go to a school like that. But, right now, you need to concentrate on getting out of Kindergarten. Okay?"

"You won't let my daddy send me away?"

"If I let your daddy send you away, who would sing the Abbey Road tape with me in the car? Nobody sings 'Maxwell's Silver Hammer' as well as you do. Now, lay down and go to sleep. I love you."

"I love you, too, mom," Mary Kathryn murmured sleepily, turning onto her side and popping her thumb in her mouth. Within five minutes, she was sound asleep.

Jill left the room and pulled the door closed, determined to go downstairs and have a nice, long chat with her husband.

Mike looked up from his paperwork when Jill walked into his office. "Mary Kate was asking me about Halloween today," he said as Jill sat on the corner of his desk. "You're going to have to have another talk with her about that." 

"Did your mother happen to mention Juilliard this morning?"

"Oh, yeah," he grinned. "She told me that Mary Kate is even more clever than I was as a child."

"Well, Mary Kathryn equated it to your mother suggesting that you were going to send her away. The idea terrified her, Mike. I was just upstairs calming her down."

"That's why she was in here looking at the map," he put his head in his hands. "Baby, I'm so sorry."

"Mike, your parents need to understand once again that they have to be careful about everything that they say around her. She takes everything literally. She made me promise that I wouldn't let you send her away."

"I won't, although sometimes . . . " he grinned at her.

"I know. Are you almost done for the night? I mean, the weekends are supposed to belong to me and your daughter," she reminded him before she left the room.

Monday afternoon when Jill brought Mary Kathryn home from her day at Jen and Willie's, she found a letter from the school in her daughter's backpack. She sat down at the dining room table and read the letter. The letter was a reminder about the upcoming Parent and Teacher night at the end of the week.

Jill knew that Mary Kathryn was doing well in school. The papers that the teacher sent home with her each day always had a smiley face sticker on them. But she wanted to hear for herself what the teacher had to say, and she knew that Mike would, too.

But Mike had other things on his mind, the least of which was how well his daughter was doing in school. Lately, the Mueller case had left him feeling like banging his head against a brick wall. A search of Adam's room by his mother hadn't turned up anything pertinent to the investigation. Mike and Terry were no closer to finding out who the young man had been planning to meet than they had a week before.

Mueller still asked to talk to the detectives, Mike, in particular. But when Mike arrived at the jail to speak to him, he'd play more of his word games. Out of frustration, Mike had told the head jailor that unless Mueller was willing to cooperate with the investigation, he and Webster were refusing to speak to him.

That had led to the note on Mike's desk when he came to work that morning. 'I'm a person of interest in my son's disappearance. It doesn't look too good when the lead detective doesn't want to talk to the "person of interest." _You can't refuse to talk to me._ A. Mueller'

"Fuck!" Mike crumpled the piece of paper and tossed it in the trash.

"Bad night?" Brinker's tone was pure sarcasm.

"No. Just more of Mueller and his crazy mind games."

"What about them?" Brinker glanced over at his former partner. 'Danko hasn't even begun seeing mind games, yet,' he thought to himself.

"He tells me and Webster that he wants to talk to us. So, we go to the jail to talk to him. Then, when we get him in a room, he just starts talking about Vietnam or some other bullshit. I told Reyes before I left on Friday to let Mueller know that unless he was going to start cooperating, we're done talking to him. He has now informed me that we don't have the right to refuse to talk to him."

"He's right, you don't," Brinker agreed. "Look, Danko, I know that the guy is frustrating as hell, but you never know what he's going to tell you when you go see him. Ninety-nine times, it'll be more BS, but on that 100th time, you might get lucky and he'll give something up. You never get the confession on the first try. You should know that by now. Try playing by his rules for a change. He might trip himself up."

"So, I should let him think he's in charge?"

"Sure. Why not?"

So, that was on Mike's plate now, which was why he forgot when Jill told him about the Parent/Teacher night at the school on Thursday evening.

He was getting ready to leave the precinct to go home later that afternoon when his phone rang. "Danko!"

"Mueller wants to talk," the head jailor reported. "He says it's important."

Mike glanced at his watch. Talking to Mueller would mean being late for dinner, but Jill was used to that. "Okay, I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Mueller?" Terry asked when Mike hung up. "Do you want me to go with you?"

"No," Mike grabbed his suit jacket. "He won't talk to you, anyway. I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay. Take it easy," Terry called out as Mike left the squad room.

Mueller was in his usual seat at the table when Mike entered the room. "Your attorney should be here," Mike reminded him as he sat down and placed a tape recorder between them.

"When did they start calling you 'Underdog?'" Mueller asked as Mike stared at him in shock. "See, I was in the Ia Drang Valley serving under Col. Hal Moore in 1965. I knew a chopper pilot named Snake Bite, but I never knew Underdog. But my guess is you wouldn't have been Underdog in 1965, since the cartoon didn't come on until later."

"How many tours did you do?" Mike played along with Mueller's game, while wondering how his suspect knew so much about him.

"One was enough. I barely made it out of there alive. So, why Underdog? You didn't answer my question."

"I pulled some dudes out of a crazy firefight in Qa Nang," Mike answered. "One of the guys that I rescued made a comment about 'There's no need for fear; Underdog is here,' and it stuck."

"Does Jill know that story?"

"Let's get one thing straight, Mueller," Mike leaned toward the handcuffed man. "I'll play your game on one condition. You never mention either my wife or my daughter's name. Do you understand me?"

"Fine. Does she know the story?"

"No."

"But she knows that was your nickname?"

"Yeah. She's seen pictures of me with my helmet on. Why don't we talk about your old lady?"

"Let's not and say we did."

"Were you in the Army when you met her?"

"No. I'd been out for a couple of years. I'd just joined the Sheriff's Department. She and Adam went to my parents' church. My mother introduced us."

"Did you love her?"

"I liked the kid," Mueller gave a genuine smile for the first time since meeting Mike. "I'd take him to ball games and stuff. His father had died when he was small, and Greta didn't know anything about raising a boy. It took a while for me to even notice that she was around."

"How long did you know her before you got married?"

"Almost two years. We both realized right away that it was a mistake, but then she got pregnant with Erika and—"

"You stayed for the kids?"

"I like being a dad. It's great when your own kid thinks that you're the best thing since sliced bread. Wouldn't you agree, Danko?"

"Yeah," Mike nodded.

"Your kid . . . she gets along with your friends? I mean, do you trust them with her?" 

"Yeah, I trust my friends with my daughter. Is there a reason why I shouldn't?"

"I'm just saying that some men like little girls. Your old lady's ex sure as hell did. She was what? Fourteen? And, he was 24 or 25."

"Where are you getting your information?"

"You'd be surprised what you can learn if you know the right people," Mueller smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Doesn't it concern you just a little about the guy who might want to come after your daughter before she's old enough to know what she's doing?"

"Why don't we talk about Adam?"

"Adam didn't understand the way that things are between fathers and daughters. It's different than it is between fathers and sons."

"He told his mother that you had pictures of yourself and Erika."

"If I do, then where are they?"

"If they exist, believe me when I tell you that we're going to find them."

"I have no doubt of that. Have you ever wondered about the stories Jill hasn't told you?" 

"This interview is over," Mike got up and walked over to the door, rapping loudly on it. "I told you the ground rules when I came in."

Jill waited as long as she could for Mike to get home before hustling Mary Kathryn into the car and driving to the elementary school for the Parent/Teacher meeting. She was hoping that Mike would meet her there when he got home from work.

Mary Kathryn's teacher, Mrs. Keller, looked up and smiled when Jill walked into the room with Mary Kathryn. "Mrs. Danko, I'm so glad that you could make it. Mary Kate," her teacher smiled down at her, "there's punch and cookies on the table against the wall. Why don't you go help yourself and talk to your friends while I talk to your mom?"

"Okay. Mom, when you're done, you have to come over to meet Stella and Stanley," Mary Kathryn looked at her mother.

"I'll be there in a few minutes, sweetie," Jill promised. "Stella and Stanley?"

"They're my guinea pigs," the teacher explained. "I brought them in to teach the kids responsibility."

"I'm sorry that my husband couldn't join me," Jill apologized. "He probably got tied up at work."

"That's fine. Mary Kate is a wonderful student. She's very smart, and she has a wonderful imagination. She's always telling us stories about her dog. I believe that his name is Seven?" Mrs. Keller looked at Jill.

"Yes. Seven. He was the seventh puppy in the litter. I'm glad that she's no problem."

"On the contrary, she's any teacher's dream. You and your husband must be very proud of her."

"We are," Jill confirmed as Mary Kathryn came back over. "I guess I'll go and meet Stella and Stanley. It was nice talking to you."

When they re-entered the house half an hour later, Mike was sitting on the couch watching TV. "Where have you two been?" He looked at his watch, noticing that it was past Mary Kate's bedtime. "You didn't leave a note."

"Mary Kathryn, go and get ready for bed. I'll be up in a few minutes," she waited for the little girl to leave the room before turning to her husband. "Where have _we_ been? Mike, it's Thursday."

"I know what day it is. Did I miss something?" 

"I told you on Monday that we had a Parent/Teacher conference tonight. Didn't you put it in your appointment book?"

"Let me check," he got up and walked into his office. He groaned when he opened the book and looked at his page for that day. It was completely blank. "I'm sorry, babe. I forgot to write it down," he came back into the living room. "So, is she doing okay or is she terrorizing the classroom?" He grinned ruefully, hoping to lighten the mood. The grin evaporated when Jill turned on her heel in a fury and left the room.

A little while later, he stopped outside the doorway to his daughter's room and listened to Jill reading to her. "I wish that I could be a Pepper," Mary Kathryn yawned sleepily in reference to the family in the book. "I'd like a lot of brothers and sisters, also shoes with red tops. Did you like this book when you were little?"

"Yes, I did."

"Did you have lots of brothers and sisters like my daddy does?"

"No. I just had your Aunt Amanda and your Aunt Patricia, but I didn't see them that much."

"Why? Didn't they live in your house with your mommy and daddy?"

"I just didn't see them much. That's enough questions for one night. Lay down and I'll send daddy in to kiss you goodnight."

"Mom?"

"Mary Kathryn—"

"Why didn't daddy come to see Stella and Stanley?"

"He was busy."

"He's always busy," Mary Kathryn pouted, laying down and pulling her doll close to her.

"I know," Jill left the room and came face to face with Mike. "Maybe he can explain why that is."

She walked past him, down the stairs. Mike took a deep breath before walking into Mary Kate's room. "Did the teacher tell mom nice things about you?" He sat on the edge of her bed.

"Daddy, I wanted you to see Stella and Stanley," Mary Kate complained, sitting up in her bed.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. I got busy at work."

"I bet Willie wasn't too busy to go to Thomas' class," she lay down and turned her back on him, indicating that the conversation was over.

"I love you," he stood up and kissed her on the cheek before leaving the room. "I'll see you in the morning."

"If you're not too busy to have to go before I even get up," came the muffled reply as Mike left and pulled her door ajar.

When he walked into the kitchen, Jill was setting things out for the next morning. "Please don't tell me that I'm going to have to start making excuses for you. Because I suck at it."

"I'm sorry," he apologized once again before he walked over and sat at the bar and put his head in his hands. "I don't know what else you want me to say."

"I need to ask you something," she walked over and faced him across the bar. "Is this case becoming more important to you than Mary Kathryn and me?"

"No, of course not."

"Because, I have to tell you, Mike, that in 11 years of marriage, I've never had to take a backseat to anything you've been working on. That is, until now. It's been a month. Adam Mueller is more than likely dead. I know that you want to find his body. As a mother, I know that I'd want that if it were my child. But whether Albert Mueller tells you where Adam is today or six months from now, the fact remains that he is probably dead. There's nothing that you can do to change that fact. Is that where you were tonight? Playing more of his mind games?"

"Jill, I have to talk to him if he requests it. I never know when I go into that interview room if this is going to be the interview where he finally tells me something. I'm sorry that I missed Mary Kate's conference. There will be other conferences. I'm not going to miss all of them," he got up and left the room.

"Michael!" She called out, following him. He turned at the bottom of the stairs and looked at her. "Don't walk away from me!"

"I can't _believe_ that you really want to fight about this!" He said in a loud whisper before he followed her back into the kitchen.

"I'm not angry because you missed the conference," she hissed, her dark brown eyes flashing fire. "I'm angry because you let your daughter down. I can't explain to her that the reason her daddy couldn't be there tonight was because of the bad man who might or might not have killed his son. All she knows is that you weren't there and she wanted you to be. Now I'm done."

Mike turned and walked up the stairs to their bedroom, stripping off his clothes as soon as he entered the room. Standing under the jets of the shower minutes later, he began thinking. Not only about missing Mary Kate's conference, but about his meeting with Mueller. One thing from his meeting with Mueller kept rolling around in his brain. He remembered Mueller asking him if he trusted his friends with his daughter. It made him wonder if Mueller's friends were also somehow involved in what was going on. When he got out of the shower, he walked back into the bedroom and dialed Terry's number.

"Hello?" Terry answered on the second ring.

"Do me a favor in the morning and call Greta Mueller. Ask her if any of Mueller's friends were particularly friendly around Erika."

"You think that he was sharing the kid with his friends?"

"I don't know. He made a comment during our interview. He asked me if I trusted my friends with my daughter. It started me thinking."

"And, do you?"

"Do I what?" Mike was confused.

"Trust us with Mary Kate?" 

"Terry, if I didn't trust you, you wouldn't be around her."

"I was just wondering. Because I'd like to think that you know me, Willie, and Chris better than that. He's getting inside your head, Mike."

"I'll see you in the morning," Mike ended the conversation.

"What was that all about?" He looked up to find Jill standing in the doorway.

"Just something that I need Terry to do in the morning. Am I forgiven for missing the conference?"

"I haven't decided, yet. You might have to suck up for a little while longer."

Watching her walk into the bathroom, Mike remembered more of his conversation with Mueller. He walked into the bathroom where Jill was getting undressed. "You're going to miss 'Hill Street Blues,'" she pointed out, reaching into the shower and turning on the water.

"Growing up, did you know anybody named Mueller?"

"No," she stepped into the shower.

"Not even when you were living in the Beverly Hills house with Cleve? I mean, you knew a lot of bikers," he reminded her, watching her open the shower and poke her head out.

"I never knew any of their real names. And, I definitely never knew anybody with that name when I was growing up in Alabama. Why don't you go make some popcorn and I'll be down in a few minutes?"

Standing under the shower after Mike left the room, Jill found herself wondering what he was getting at. If Ryker were still on the force, she could go to him and ask him to please remove Mike from the Mueller case. She couldn't do that with his new captain. Capt. Fuller made it a point to stay out of his officer's personal lives and he didn't appreciate outside interference. She knew that Mueller was playing mind games, but she didn't really understand what that meant. And, she wasn't sure she wanted to find out.

When she came back downstairs, she smiled at the sight of Mike with his feet propped up on the coffee table and a bowl of popcorn by his side. She sat down beside him, propping her feet next to his. "So, has Belker bitten anybody, yet?" She asked, reaching into the bowl.

"Not yet. I can't help thinking that if we had just one guy like him, we'd get confessions for everything."

"And lawsuits from perps claiming that their civil rights were violated. Fuller would just love that."

"You're probably right," he begrudgingly agreed, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl. "Can I ask you a question? Have you ever had a problem trusting Willie and Terry with Mary Kate?"

"You're kidding, right? Of course, I trust them with her. Why wouldn't I? Mike, they're our closest friends in the world. You know that they'd never do anything to hurt Mary Kathryn. And we've empowered her enough that she'd let one of us know if they were inappropriate with her. Where is this coming from?"

"I don't know," he got up and began walking the length of the room. "I was interviewing Mueller today and—"

"Michael, just because he might've done things to his daughter doesn't mean that you should paint every man in the world with that brush. We've discussed this before."

"Let me ask you this, then," he came and sat on the edge of the coffee table. "Did it ever occur to you when you were 14-years-old that Cleve was wrong to be acting the way that he was with you?"

"Mike, I had cousins who got married when they were 13. No, I didn't think there was anything wrong with the way that Cleve acted toward me. Where I came from, girls were having their first or second baby when they were 13 or 14. Do I think that it's wrong now? Yes. But back then I was too stupid to know any better. What else did he say to you? And why are you asking me if I knew anybody named Mueller?"

"He knows too much, Jill. Not just about me, but about you, too. He knew about Cleve. He knew that you were 14 years old when you took off with him. He knew my call sign from Vietnam. He knows your stories, Jill. _All of them_."

"If you're telling me this to trick me, Mike, it's not going to work," she hissed as she shoved him out of her way and got up.

"It's not a trick, Jill. Come to the station and I'll play you the tape."

"Nobody knows all of my stories. No one except for me and God."

"And Trap," Mike reminded her.

"Trap wouldn't do that to me," she went over to the stairs, giving him one last look. "And believe me, Trap doesn't know _everything_."

Mike sighed as he put the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and went upstairs where he found Jill sitting on the edge of their bed. "I'm sorry. I promised myself a long time ago that I wouldn't upset you any more about what went on in that house. Forgive me?"

"Mike, I told you before we got married that there were things that I might not ever be ready to talk about. Things that happened that I can't talk about because I can't wrap my head around them. Please respect that and _let it go_."

"Can I ask you this?" He sat down beside her. "When Mary Kate starts dating, are you going to tell her any of it?"

"I'll tell her as much as I think she needs to know. All I know for sure is I want to bring her up to be smarter in her choices than I was."

"Not all your choices were bad," he gave her the grin that she could never resist.

"No, not all of them," she leaned over and kissed his neck. "Mike, I don't know how Mueller knows what he knows, but none of it came from me."

Over at Terry and Serena's house, Serena watched Terry's face after he got off the phone with Mike. "Who was that?"

"Mike," he walked over and sat down beside her on the sofa. "He wants me to ask Greta Mueller if any of Mueller's friends were particularly close to Erika."

"What makes him think that anybody else did anything to that little girl?"

"I don't know. He interviewed him this afternoon, so Mueller must've hinted at something. Because it would kill Mueller to give us anything concrete. Every bit of information that comes from him is like one of those Chinese finger puzzles."

"Do you think it could be more of his mind games? You've said before that Mike seems to be a favorite target of his."

"I asked him if he trusted me, Willie, and Chris with Mary Kate."

"You asked him _what_? Terry, why did you ask him that?"

"Because the vibes that I was getting were telling me that suddenly he's become distrustful of us."

"Are you going to try to talk to that little girl? Because, if you are, it might be advisable to have someone along that's capable of talking to a child who might or might not have been exploited by an adult."

"Are you volunteering?"

"It would be a conflict of interest if I was to do it. But I can certainly recommend someone from my office."

"I'll let you know."

The next morning Jill was fixing Mary Kathryn's breakfast, listening to the little girl chattering away nearby. ". . . And mom, I need new black tights. My old ones don't fit, anymore."

"Why do you need black tights? You have other colors in your dresser drawer that fit just fine," Jill walked over and placed a bowl of cereal in front of her daughter.

"For Halloween. For my Wednesday Addams costume. So that I can go trick or treating with Thomas and Natalie. Jennifer already said it was all right," Mary Kathryn said between bites of cereal.

"Mary Kathryn, daddy isn't going to let you go trick or treating. You already know that. I thought that maybe you'd like to spend the weekend with Mamie and Poppy. I'm sure that if you play your cards right, Poppy will take you to the toy store."

Spending the weekend with her grandparents served a dual purpose in Jill's mind. She knew that her in-laws didn't hand out candy to trick or treaters, and since it was also her birthday weekend, she knew that Mike would want to take her out somewhere romantic. "I don't want to go to Mamie and Poppy's," Mary Kathryn argued. "I want to be like everybody else! Why can't I go trick or treating?"

"Because daddy doesn't believe in it," Jill told her. "Finish your breakfast so I can fix your hair. Jen is going to be here soon." Instead of finishing her cereal, Mary Kathryn defiantly threw her spoon into her cereal bowl, and sat back with her arms firmly crossed over her chest. "Come on, Mary Kathryn! I don't have time for this!"

"My daddy's the meanest daddy in the whole world! All he cares about is his work! If he cared about me, he would've come to school last night!"

"I don't to hear another word out of you about your daddy!" Jill shouted, watching Mary Kathryn shrink back in her chair. "Go wash your face and brush your teeth. When you come back downstairs, bring me your hair brush. Go!"

Mary Kathryn jumped from her chair and did as she was told. She knew better than to argue when her mother used that tone of voice. Minutes later, she returned to the kitchen and gave her mother the hair brush before climbing up on one of the bar stools as Jill expertly brushed her hair. "Did that bad man hurt his little boy?" Mary Kathryn asked, causing Jill to pause.

"How did you hear about that?" Jill began braiding Mary Kathryn's hair down her back.

"It was on the TV. Did he hurt his little boy?"

"I don't know. Let's go wait for Jen."

Terry was on the phone when Mike entered the squad room. He hung up just as Mike sat down with his cup of coffee. "Where's Brinker?" Mike looked around the room.

"In court, I think. I just spoke to Greta Mueller." Terry picked up his notepad. "She said that she never noticed any of her ex's friends paying special attention to Erika, but she did say that there were times when she wasn't around when his friends were there."

"Maybe we should talk to the kid," Mike suggested.

"We may need help with that. Serena made a comment to me that Erika might not open up to us because we're men."

"Discussing this case with your old lady, are you?"

"Why not? Don't tell me that you don't discuss what's going on with Jill," Terry fixed Mike with a strange look.

"Oh, I discuss things with Jill, all right," Mike's response was cryptic, causing Terry to raise an eyebrow. "Never mind. Is Serena willing to help us out?"

"Not Serena personally, but she did say it we were willing to make a phone call, someone would be willing to work with us."

"Uh, can you take care of Greta Mueller? I need to check some things out."

"Sure, I can handle her. What did Mueller say to you yesterday?" Terry asked, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair.

"He wanted to talk about the war, as usual. We knew a few of the same people."

"He didn't say anything relevant to the case?"

"Not really. At least not anything that we can use. I'm going to make some phone calls and then I'm gonna see if Mueller's interested in talking again. Let me know what you get from Mrs. Mueller," Mike picked up his phone and began dialing.

"Do you want me to have someone from social services meet me over there?"

"Why? The kid's going to be in school. I really don't want to disrupt her life any more than we have to."

"I can make an appointment for someone to meet us here to interview the kid at the beginning of next week," Terry suggested, instantly seeing the look of irritation on his friends' face. "Or, we can discuss it when I get back from Mrs. Mueller's."

The phone in the barn at Ryker's cottage rang several times before it was picked up. "Hello?"

"Trap, it's Mike. I was wondering if the two of us could get together sometime this afternoon."

"Is something wrong with Jill or Mary Kate?"

"No, they're both fine. How about if I drive out there around three or so?"

"Do you mind if I ask what this is about?"

"I'll explain everything when I get there," Mike said, ending the call.

When Mike pulled up into the driveway at Ryker's property later that afternoon, he could hear music coming from the barn. He walked in to find Jill's childhood friend, T.R. (Trap) Applegate cleaning out the horse stalls. "I told the old man that you were coming out here to see me. He was intrigued, to say the least. I have to admit that so am I. There are cold sodas in that cooler over there."

"Thanks," Mike opened the ice chest and removed a cold can of soda, before popping the top and slipping the tab inside the can.

"I bet Jill gives you hell for that."

"She has for 13 years. She complains, and I keep putting my tabs inside the cans. We've come to a stalemate."

"Why are you here, Mike?"

"Do you know a man named Albert Mueller?"

"I can't say that I do. Should I?"

"Do you ever discuss with anybody what happened in that house?"

"More than anybody, you should know that I don't _ever_ talk about those days. The old man doesn't even know about that. Are you going to tell me why you're asking questions about that or do I have to continue pulling it out of you bit by bit?"

"This guy, Mueller, knows a lot about Jill. He knows stuff that only a handful of people know. Those few people being you, Jill, and God."

"You're forgetting Cleve, may he rot in hell," Trap reminded him. "When I took Jill back to Alabama, and returned to my father's house in Pensacola, I made a vow that I'd never talk about those days. Living in the past is stupid. Jill should've taken a cue from my book and just let it go."

"It happened to her, so she's never going to be able to completely let it go. She made a comment last night that even you don't know everything. Are you sure there isn't anybody else who might know what went on in that house?"

"Cleve's brother Bill might. It depends on how much Cleve might've told him. You could also try Jimmy. Contrary to what he led you and Jill to believe, he stayed chummy with Cleve."

"How did you find that out?"

"Mike, have you ever stopped to wonder how Cleve found Jill in 1974?"

"I asked Jimmy—"

"And he lied to you. Jimmy was the reason that a lot of things happened back in the day."

"What about the bikers?"

"What about them? They knew that Cleve fucked Jill up, but they didn't know what was going on behind that bedroom door at night. If they had, I'm sure they would've taken care of him. They were all fond of Jill."

Mike knew that much. He'd met one of them several years before while working on another case. The biker had told him how they felt about Jill. He told Mike that they had offered to kill Cleve for her. All she'd had to do was say the word. "You think Mueller's source is either Bill or Jimmy?"

"Or anybody else they might've told. It's like one giant game of telephone."

"I know how to reach Jimmy, but I don't have a number for Bill Andrews."

"I don't, either, but my brother might. I'll call you tonight if I get one."

"Is Jimmy the reason for the late night drive-bys after Jill and I started dating?"

"I was in the bar one day," Trap said, putting down his pitchfork and sitting down on a nearby hay bale. "Jimmy was telling me that Cleve was in one day giving him his version of the events in that house. Needless to say, they didn't exactly jive with Jill's, if you get my drift. To hear Jimmy tell it, Cleve was making himself sound like a stud. I told Jimmy that no matter how flat a pancake is, it still has two sides. He wasn't the one who had to listen to what was going on at night. I was."

"What did Jimmy say?"

"Jimmy was Jimmy. He was going to believe what he wanted to believe. I think that deep down he was hoping that Jill would go back to California with Cleve. I think he was afraid that if something happened to his daddy, he'd leave the bar to her."

"Trap, the guy was my best man—"

"I know. But I'm also telling you that Jill and I grew up with him. He could be as two-faced as the day is long. I think if you dig deep enough, you're going to find out that somewhere down the line Jimmy knows Albert Mueller or somebody who knows him. Like I said, it's like a giant game of telephone."

"Does Jill know any of this?"

"I told her some of it a while back. I'm not sure she believed me. When she was little, Jill thought that Jimmy walked on water."

"When did you tell her?"

"After the shit with Cleve went down. She asked me if I'd told Cleve where she was. That was when I reminded her that I was the only person more scared of Cleve than she was."

"Thanks, man. I'll let you get back to work. Thanks for the soda," Mike got up and left the barn.

He was almost at his car when he heard someone calling his name. "Danko!" He looked over at the carport where his former lieutenant was standing. "What brings you out here?"

"I'm working on a case and I thought that maybe Trap could help me out."

"Come inside for a minute."

Mike glanced at his watch. It was quarter to four and he still had a long drive back to town. But he also knew that he couldn't ignore Ryker. The man was his mentor, after all. "I'm sorry that I haven't been around lately," he apologized as he followed Ryker into his house.

"Never mind that," Ryker waved his hand in dismissal. "Sit and tell me about your case. You have a missing kid, right?"

"Yes, sir. An 18-year-old who hasn't been seen since early September," Mike sat down in one of the chairs in the cozy living room.

"Who are your suspects?" The older man asked, sitting down in another chair.

"We only have one. His step-father. He's currently in custody on custodial interference charges. We found a lot of blood and brain matter in the trunk of the kid's car."

"He's not talking?"

"Oh, he's talking, but he's not _saying_ anything."

"What in the hell is that supposed to mean? Is he speaking Hebrew or another language that you don't understand?"

"No, nothing like that. He'll only talk to me, but when I do talk to him, he doesn't want to talk about the case. Brinker told me to just let him babble, because eventually he might say something meaningful. Meanwhile, I've got a kid out there possibly rotting."

"Not possibly. Probably. So, what does my hired help have to do with this?"

"It has to do with Jill, and I can't discuss that with you. I'm sorry."

"Has your suspect threatened her?" The old man asked, his eyes darkening.

"No."

"It has to do with her old life?" Ryker guessed as Mike stared at him. "It was a comment that she made to me a long time ago when she was staying here with me after I got injured. She was telling me about her nightmares. She just told me that it had to do with her old life, and she didn't want to bore me with details. I didn't ask, and she didn't say anymore about it. Does this guy know Jill?"

"I don't think he knows Jill, but I think that he knows someone who knows things about Jill's 'old life,' as you put it. There are still things about her old life that I don't know. I really don't want to learn some of those things from a stranger."

"Let me see what I can track down. I have the license and I have the means."

"Fuller is going to have a fit it I present the department with a bill for your services."

"Then, we'll call it a gift from an old friend. Have you tried to talk to Jill? Maybe you need to convince her that it would be better if you heard everything from her and not from a stranger."

"I've tried."

"Try harder."

"Yes, sir. As for the help, I'll take anything I can get."

"I'll see what I can dig up. If I find anything, I'll call you at home. Kiss Jill and Mary Kate for me. Tell them to come and visit an old man sometime," he grinned as he walked Mike to the door.

At Willie and Jennifer's house, Mary Kate and Thomas were playing on the swing set in the backyard. "Do you think that your mom and daddy will let me move in and live with you?" Mary Kate asked, hanging upside down on the trapeze bar.

"No way. I already have one sister and that's one sister _too many_ ," Thomas retorted. "Why do you want to live here?"

"Because my daddy won't let me go trick or treating."

"Maybe he's worried that you'll get more cavities. My mom's always on me for eating so much candy."

"I don't have _any_ cavities. Wednesday Addams is the coolest person in the world. The one night that I can be her and my daddy won't let me!" Mary Kate kicked her legs over her head and dropped to the ground.

"Doesn't your mom think that you watch too much TV?" Thomas queried, changing the subject.

"I don't get to watch enough TV. You get to watch more TV than I do."

"That's because I'm older."

"No. It's because your mom and dad are cooler," Mary Kate argued.

"Maybe. But at least you have your own horse."

"That's because I have a _cool_ godfather. My daddy is _not_ cool. He didn't even come to my class last night to meet Stella and Stanley."

"Who is Stella and Stanley?"

"They're the class guinea pigs. I asked my mom for one, and she said absolutely not," Mary Kate mocked Jill's voice.

"Why didn't your dad go to your class last night? My dad did, and I got in all kinds of trouble when we got home."

"Why?"

"Because my big-mouthed teacher told my dad and mom that I talk too much when I should be doing school work."

"Your teacher sounds mean. I hope that I don't have her when I'm in the second grade," the little girl looked toward the house and saw her mom standing at the back door. "My mom's here."

"Why didn't your dad go last night?" Thomas asked again when they began walking to the house.

"Because he was too busy solving murders."

"Who got murdered?" Thomas' eyes got huge in his face. "My dad never said anything about anybody getting murdered! Was it bloody?"

"How should I know? All I know is my dad's murders are more important than I am."

"Hi, sweetheart," Jill greeted Mary Kathryn when the two children walked into the house.

"Hi," Mary Kathryn's voice was glum.

"Come on. Let's go home and cook dinner for daddy."

"Do you think he'll come home for dinner?"

"Mary Kathryn, don't start that here," Jill warned, shooting a glance to where Jennifer and Willie were standing nearby. "Get your backpack."

"What was that all about?" Willie wondered out loud after Jill and Mary Kate left the house.

"Mike's murders are more important than Mary Kate is," Thomas chimed in. "Can I have some cookies?"

"Not now. I'm about to start dinner. What murders?" Jen looked at Willie.

"I don't know what Terry and Mike are working on."

"Mary Kate said that Mike didn't even go to her class last night. She said that he was too busy," Thomas added.

"Why don't you go and watch TV?" Jen suggested to her son. The little boy scampered out of the room, all too happy to comply. "You know, it would be nice to be in the loop once in a while."

"What's that supposed to mean? Jennifer, believe me, I don't know what they're working on."

"I still think that Fuller should've offered you that promotion," she walked over to the refrigerator and began taking things out for dinner.

"Well, somebody else felt that I wasn't ready for it, yet. Jen, believe me, Jill didn't put in any words with Capt. Fuller. She doesn't even know the guy."

"All I know from the stories that I've heard from Terry, she sure had your former lieutenant wrapped around her finger."

"Did he also tell you that when Jill first met Lt. Ryker that he used to intimate the hell out of her? Hell, I think at one time or another, we were all scared shitless of him."

"He still scares me."

"He's all bark but very little bite," William grinned, walking over and kissing his wife.

Jennifer began peeling potatoes after William left the room to watch TV with his son. She wished just once that someone would let her in on some of the stories. There were times with William's friends that she felt as if she had walked into a movie in the middle. She didn't know the beginning of the movie and she didn't know the ending. And the middle was a muddled mess that she struggled to understand.

Driving home in bumper to bumper rush hour traffic, Mike couldn't help but think about his afternoon. Having Ryker's help would be a welcome relief. It would save him and Terry hours of legwork. He cursed to himself when he glanced at his watch. He picked up his mike and radioed dispatch. "This is Danko. Can you ring my home number for me?"

"Ten-four, Lieutenant."

Jill was in the middle of cooking dinner when the phone rang. Glancing at the clock, she knew that it had to be Mike. "Hello?"

"Hi, babe."

"Are you on your police band?" She asked, noting that he sounded like he was in the middle of a wind tunnel.

"Yeah. Listen, I'm running late. I have to clock out and then I'll be home. I shouldn't be more than an hour, an hour and a half at the most. You and Mary Kate go ahead and eat. I'll eat when I get home."

"Okay," her voice sounded disappointed.

"I'm sorry."

"I know. I'll see you later."

Brinker was at his desk when Mike entered the squad room half an hour later. "Where have you been? You look like you've driven to the Arizona border and back."

"I feel like it, too," Mike said, logging off his phone for the evening. "How was court?"

"The usual. I testified, and the bastard got 15 to life. Business as usual. Have you ever seen the movie 'The Deer Hunter?'"

"I don't watch movies about Vietnam."

"But you know about the scene toward the end with Christopher Walken, right? The Russian Roulette scene?"

"What're you getting at, Brinker? I'm already late for dinner."

"I was just wondering if you were familiar with the scene, that's all. Have a nice dinner," Brinker leaned back in his chair.

Mike walked away, shaking his head as he went. It was bad enough having a suspect playing mind games with him, but now his former partner was doing it, too. He was now convinced that Brinker was a certifiable fruitcake.

Jill was sitting on the living room floor playing Memory with Mary Kathryn when she heard the garage door coming up. "Daddy's home," she announced, getting up from the floor.

"I don't care."

"Young lady, you might as well get over your case of the sulks right now. It's not going to earn you your way. Come and say 'hi' to daddy."

"I want to take my bath now!" Mary Kathryn announced instead, picking the game up from the floor.

"How's my girls?" Mike called out when he walked into the house.

"Hi, sweetheart," Jill walked over and kissed him. "How was your day?"

"Long," he sighed, returning her kiss. "It seems that I'm missing one of my girls."

"Mom! I said that I'm ready for my bath now!"

"We're having a tantrum?" Mike whispered, seeing Jill nod. "Do I want to know why?"

" _Mom!"_

"Give her a bath. I can take a hint."

"Your dinner's in the oven. I'll be down in a little while."

A few minutes later, while Jill was bathing Mary Kathryn, she ignored her banter. "Thomas is going, and Rainbow is going, and Alison is going. Everybody is going trick or treating except for me and Brian. Brian asked me if I was a Jehovah's Witness. He said that's why he can't go. What is that, anyway?"

"It's a religion," Jill gently washed Mary Kathryn's back.

"Oh, like me being Catholic. I get it. Is trick or treating against being Catholic?"

"Mary Kathryn, I want you to listen to me. I know that you want to be like your new friends at school. I know that you want to be like Thomas and Natalie. But there are some things your friends do that daddy and I might not agree with. Trick or treating is one of those things. Your daddy grew up with his daddy telling him that it was like begging. And begging is wrong. That's why your daddy won't let you go. I'm sorry, but that's the way that things are."

"Why is it begging if people don't mind giving you candy?"

"Because you're going from door to door. Besides, you're having a party at school. That should give you enough candy to tide you over for a while. And Thanksgiving and Christmas are coming up, which means you'll get a lot of candy then." When I get you out of this tub, I want you to go downstairs, kiss and hug your daddy, and tell him that you love him."

"Why?"

"Because, there may come the day when you won't get that chance. We always tell each other 'I love you,' because it's the right thing to do. Life isn't always about getting your way. That's how you learn right from wrong."

"Will daddy read me 'The Five Little Peppers?'"

"I'm sure that he will."

Mike was eating dinner when he glanced up to find Mary Kate standing in the dining room doorway. "I guess that you're mad at me?"

"I was," she admitted in a small voice before coming to stand by his chair.

"I'm sorry that I missed your conference last night. I told your mom that it won't happen again. I'm proud of how well you're doing," he smiled before lifting her into his lap and kissing her on the cheek. "That is from Eddie. I saw him today."

"Really? Did he come to the station?"

"No, I went out to the cottage. He wants to know when you're coming out to visit him."

"Did you tell him that maybe tomorrow? Mom said maybe I can go after my piano lesson tomorrow. Please, daddy?"

"Mary Kathryn, give your daddy a kiss and go up to bed. He'll be up to read to you as soon as he's eaten his dinner," Jill promised, watching her daughter kiss and hug her father goodnight before going upstairs to her room.

A short time later, she was in the gazebo in the middle of the backyard, silently fuming while she waited for Mike to come outside after reading to Mary Kathryn. It all came down to her damn past! She'd been riding this merry-go-round with her husband for the past 13 years and it showed no signs of stopping anytime soon.

Seven jumped up from his spot at Jill's feet and ran to the back door when he heard it sliding opened. "I thought that I might find you out here," Mike sat in the swing next to Jill.

"It does no good to play 20 Questions with Trap because he won't talk about the events that happened in that house."

"I know. However, I did find out one piece of information that I didn't know. You never told me that Jimmy was playing both ends against the middle."

"Does it matter now? Yes, I think Jimmy is how Cleve found me. Does it really matter now? Cleve's dead, Mike, or have you forgotten that? Trap doesn't know anybody named Mueller, and I don't think Jimmy does, either. But you're welcome to ask him. I'm sure that's your next step in this investigation."

"I have to, Jill. Eddie said something to me today that makes a lot of sense when I sit and think about it."

"What's that?"

"If you would just sit and tell me everything, then I probably won't get the shock of my life down the road. Has that occurred to you?"

"There's only one other story that I haven't told you. Right now, I can't talk about it. I don't want you to get blindsided, but that's the chance that I have to take."

"Do you dream about it?"

"No, not in a long time," she admitted.

"Jill, there are times when I feel like you trust me completely, and other times, like right now, when I feel like we're right back at the beginning of our relationship. Is it as bad as the other stuff?"

"I don't know. It's not as sick . . . well, it's sick depending on your point of view. It's not as sick as being assaulted multiple times a night or being tied up when I didn't want to comply, which was all the time."

"I don't mean to make you relive this shit, Jill," he drew her closer to him. "I just don't understand the game this son of a bitch is playing."

"I love you," she whispered against his neck. "This would be so much easier if he'd just tell you where Adam is."

"Nothing in life is easy, and this bastard is proving it," he continued holding her while he rocked the swing.

"Your mother is going to pick Mary Kathryn up from Jen's next Friday," she kissed his neck.

"Why?" He pulled away to look at her.

"Halloween, for one. And I thought that you'd like to spend the weekend alone," she grinned and he grinned back.

Returning his smile, Jill found herself wondering if her husband had truly forgotten. She wasn't Mary Kathryn's age, but she did like to have her birthday remembered. It made her feel special and loved. And Mike never failed to deliver. He was nothing if not romantic. It was one of the things that she loved most about him. "A weekend alone would be nice," he admitted. "We haven't had time to ourselves in a long time."

"Are you working tomorrow?"

"Just paperwork and a few phone calls. Nothing that I can't take care of here. Why?"

"I was thinking that I'll take Mary Kathryn to your mothers for her piano lessons, and then the two of us can go out to Eddie's for a few hours. I haven't seen him or Trap in a while. That way, you can do your work without interruptions."

"You want to know what Trap and I talked about?"

"Well, there is that, too," she admitted. She rested her head on his shoulder while he continued rocking the swing.

"Would you believe me if I told you that he didn't tell me anything?"

"I already know that. Like I said, he doesn't talk about what went on in that house."

"One day you might actually trust me implicitly. After all, I am your husband," he stopped the swing and got to his feet.

"Mike—"

"I get it, Jill. Believe me, I've _always_ gotten it."

Jill didn't follow him. She knew from past experience that he'd stew for a while, and then he'd be okay. She knew that the stories distressed him, but at least he hadn't had to live through the real thing. She often found herself wondering if he'd told any of her stories to the guys. He's always sworn that he hadn't, but she still wondered.

She'd shared bits and pieces with Terry and Willie, less with Chris. She knew that Mike's parents knew very little. She'd told Mike's father when she was pregnant with Mary Kathryn that her relationship with her parents was strained, but they knew nothing about the life she'd shared with Cleve.

After 10 or 15 minutes, she got up and walked back into the house, closing and locking the door behind her. She then went through the downstairs, securing the doors and turning out the lights before making her way upstairs. When she walked into their bedroom, she could hear the shower running through the partially closed door. She walked into the bathroom and perched on the edge of the vanity. "Do you still love me a little?" She called out over the sound of the water.

"No," he poked his head out of the shower. "I love you _a lot_. You just make me crazy and you're giving me a lifetime of gray hairs," he ducked back into the shower.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"What?" He asked in irritation.

"Is there room for two in there?"

He reopened the shower curtain and gave her a lecherous grin. "Believe me, baby, I'll make room."

The next morning Jill was awakened by furious pounding on the bedroom door. "Mom! Daddy! Why is the door locked? I'm ready to go to Mamie's! Are we going to Eddie's today? Are you guys awake?"

"If we ignore her, do you think she'll go away?" Mike whispered against Jill's neck.

"Not a chance. She can't come in here, Mike," she indicated their state of undress from the night before.

"Mary Kate, go downstairs and I'll be down in 10 minutes to make pancakes," Mike called out.

"Five minutes," the little girl bartered.

"Mary Kathryn, this isn't a hostage negotiation," Mike called back.

"Okay, I'm going!"

After a few minutes, Jill lifted her head off her pillow. "Twenty bucks says she's sitting outside our bedroom door. Watch this," she smiled at her husband. "Mary Kathryn, I can hear you breathing! Get downstairs right now!"

"Okay, okay. You don't have to be so grumpy."

The second she heard Mary Kathryn's feet on the stairs, Jill burst out laughing. "How do you do that?" Mike asked, joining in her laughter.

"Mother hearing."

"The department could use a little of that," he got out of bed and began dressing. "I'll call my mother and let her know that you're bringing Mary Kate over."

"Okay. I'll be downstairs in a few minutes," her voice was drowsy as he walked over to her side of the bed and kissed her. "I think that you outdid yourself last night."

"Well, I aim to please," he kissed her once more.

"Don't start something that you can't finish. You have a hungry five-year-old waiting for you."

"An impatient, hungry five-year-old," he pointed out.

A couple of hours later, Mike was working on paperwork when the doorbell rang. He looked through the peephole, grinning when he saw Willie and Terry standing there. "This is like old times," he said when he opened the door.

"I spotted Jill earlier. She said that she was taking Mary Kate to your mother's and then she was off to Ryker. Are we interrupting?" Terry asked.

"No, I need the break. Come on in," he let them in and closed the door.

"Did you find out what you needed to know?" Terry asked.

"What're you talking about?"

"Yesterday. When you left the station, you didn't say where you were going. Did you get the information that you needed?"

"No, not really. But the old man is going to help us out," he relayed his conversation with Eddie from the previous day.

"Fuller isn't going to like that," Terry reminded him.

"Eddie's doing it as a favor. It's not costing the department a dime. Did you find out anything from Greta Mueller?"

"No. She said that Mueller had a lot of friends, both in the Sheriff's Department and the Police Department. She doesn't know all of them."

"Serena said that she'd help us, right?"

"She said she can send someone from her department. Are you ready to talk to Erika?"

"Let's make arrangements with Mrs. Mueller to bring Erika in one day next week."

"Mike?" Willie caught Mike's attention. "Maybe this is a bad time to bring it up, but Jennifer's driving me crazy."

"The stories again?" Mike rolled his eyes. "It's not like we're part of a secret society but there are things that we don't talk about. You know that better than anybody."

"I know, but I can see her point of view, also. I'm not saying that Jennifer should know all the stories, but she hears us talking about past events, and she feels left out. Kind of like we do regarding Jill's past with Cleve."

"Man, don't even bring that up."

"Did Trap know Mueller?" Terry asked.

"No. But that does remind me. I need to make a couple of phone calls and I have to make them before Jill gets home."

He then told them what Trap had told them the day before regarding Jill's cousin, Jimmy. "Are you kidding? Wasn't he your best man?" Terry wanted to know.

"Yeah."

"What a scumbag."

"Let's not call him names just yet," Mike told his friends.

"I thought you called him after Cleve was killed," Willie brought up.

"I did. He denied telling Trap where Jill was. Apparently, Trap gave Jill a different version of events shortly afterward. She believes that Jimmy is how Cleve found her."

"I still don't understand why she didn't leave that guy," Terry wondered out loud as Mike looked at him.

"She couldn't. It wasn't even an option at the time. If you knew the whole story, it would make sense."

"Mike, we want to know the whole—"

"No," Mike shook his head. "I promised her a long time ago. If you want the whole story, it's going to have to come from her and that's never going to happen."

"Was it bad?"

"Yeah. And, there's stuff that I still don't know. At least it doesn't haunt her dreams like it used to."

Trap was working on mending the barn fence when he heard his name being called out. "Trap! Trap! Are you out here?" He grinned when Mary Kate came running up, dressed in a summer dress and sandals, with twin pigtails flying. She looked just like her mother did when she was a little girl.

"Hi, kid," he greeted her when she ran up and hugged him. "Is your mom here?"

"Yeah. She told me to come out here. I guess she wants to talk to Eddie without me around. What're you doing?"

"Working on the fence. Go say hi to Daisy. I think she missed you."

Mary Kate ran into the barn, approaching her horses' stall. "Hi, Daisy!" She petted the horses' velvety nose as the horse nickered a greeting. "Do you want some carrots?" She opened one of the feed bins, and removed some carrot slices before walking back over and fed them one at a time to the horse. "Trap, can I go riding?"

"Not dressed like that," he answered her. "Do you have jeans and boots at Eddie's?"

"Yes, but mom told me—"

"She told you to come out here. We'll ride the next time you're here. I have a lot of work to do, anyway. Maybe your mom can take you when she's done talking to Eddie." When he didn't get a response, he dropped his hammer and walked into the barn. The little girl was nowhere to be seen, which meant one thing. "Mary Kate, are you in the hay loft?"

"There are kittens up here, Trap," she called down, hanging over the edge.

"There are always kittens up there. There are also rats up there. You need to come down. If your dad hears that I let you up there, he'll skin me alive."

"Rats are just really big mouses. Don't be such a baby," Mary Kate retorted, picking up one of the kittens.

"Mice," Trap corrected her. "You've obviously never seen 'Ben.' Come on down. I have ice cream in the house."

"I'm going to ask my mom for a kitten," she began climbing down the ladder. She was half-way down when Trap grabbed her and put her down on the ground.

"Your mom won't let you have a kitten," he led her out of the barn and toward his small house a short distance away.

"Why?"

"Because they don't stay kittens forever."

Back at the cottage, Eddie poured iced tea for himself and Jill before taking a seat across from her in the living room. "Did Mike tell you that I was going to help him?"

"Yes. Thank you," she took a sip of her tea.

"It's a confusing jumble of puzzle pieces. Hopefully, I can sort it out. He seems to think that all roads somehow lead to you."

"I don't know what this guy has been telling Mike, but he knows things about me. Things that only a very few people know."

"Jill, we've talked about this before. You know how I feel about dwelling on the past. Trap's obviously taken a page from my book. As long as I've known you and Mike, the past has always found a way of pulling you down. You mentioned to me a long time ago something about your 'old life.' At the time, you said that you didn't want to bore me with details. Do me a favor and bore me a little bit now. It might help with Mike's case."

"Eddie . . . Mike's friends don't even know—"

"And they still won't. Listen to me," he got up and walked over to sit beside her. "You've got a precious child that might not be affected by your past now, but something tells me that will change when she gets older. If you can't talk about it to Mike, how are you going to talk about it to Mary Kate? I have a feeling that whatever you went through can serve as a powerful warning message when she starts dating."

"When you shot Cleve that night," she began, referring to the night when a deranged Cleve Andrews had tried to lure her back into his web. "When you shot him, you ended a chapter of my life that I really thought would never end. When I used to wake up in the middle of the night screaming, I used to think that he'd have a hold on me until the day I died."

"You told me that you ran off with him when you were 14-years-old?" She nodded. "Why?"

"He was charming," she smiled wistfully in remembrance. "My grandfather had a farm to take care of. He couldn't afford hands. I was hired help, but I didn't get paid. My grandmother died when I was a little girl, so I was doing a woman's work when I wasn't much older than Mary Kathryn."

"Cleve promised you something better?" He guessed.

"I thought that he was my white knight. I had no idea that I had five more years to wait for that white knight," she remembered the first time she'd ever seen Mike.

"Trap did tell me once that he tried to get you out of that house on multiple occasions. I'm guessing that Cleve had a hold on him, too."

"Cleve was always threatening to kill Trap. When you hear that enough times, you believe it. At the end, I started wishing that he'd kill me. Instead, I took matters into my own hands."

"Your wrists?" He'd seen the scars a number of times but had never asked questions about them.

"I remember when Mike walked into my uncle's bar that first time. When he came up to the bar, I know that he saw the bandages. He never asked. He never judged me after I told him why I did it. Eddie, he's never asked why I didn't try to leave. I know that he thinks that I'm keeping secrets from him. But there's still one thing that I can't even bear to think about, much less putting into words."

"One day, you will," he planted a kiss on her cheek, patting her hand.

"Sometimes I still ask myself why he chose me out of any of the other women that he could've had. He told me once that his Army friends and even his father accused him of using me as a project that he needed to fix."

"Did you feel that way?'

"Sometimes. Sometimes I still do. Then I start thinking that maybe I needed him to come along and fix me. I fixed him, as well. He was always so serious when I first met him. He still is, but at least he's developed a small sense of humor over the past 10 years or so."

"A child will give you a sense of humor. So, will being in love."

"Jen doesn't get it. She hears stuff that we talk about, and she thinks that we're deliberately leaving her out."

"Please don't get me started on Gillis' wife," he groaned, causing Jill to laugh. "Like I said earlier, all of you are too mired down in the past. The past is exactly where it belongs. Would you like something to eat? I'm in the mood for BLT's myself."

"That sounds great. I should go looking for my kid first."

"Go and round her up, and I'll make lunch."

After searching the barn and finding it empty, Jill walked up the short path to Trap's small house. She heard childish laughter and other sounds that weren't as easily identifiable. She rapped loudly on the screen door. "It's opened!" Trap called out.

Jill opened the screen door and stepped inside to see her daughter and Trap sitting in front of the TV where a series of animated creatures were crawling around a maze, gobbling up dots as Trap guided them around. "Mary Kathryn, Eddie's making lunch. You need to come to the cottage."

"Mom, we've got to get an Atari! Tell daddy that I want one of these for Christmas!"

"If daddy gets you one of those, I'll never get either of you away from the TV. Come on. I'm sure that Trap has work to do," she gave him a pointed look.

"Yes, I do," he reluctantly admitted, getting up from the floor and turning off the game system.

Back at the Danko house, Willie and Terry had gone home, leaving Mike to make his phone call. He opened their phone directory and looked up the number before going into his office. Over the course of their marriage, they had only seen Jill's cousin, Jimmy, a handful of times. The last time had been when Jimmy's father, Ray, had died four years before.

When Jimmy answered the phone, he seemed genuinely happy to hear from Mike. "How are Jill and Mary Kate?"

"They're fine. Jimmy, I have a couple of questions and I need straight answers. No bullshit."

"That sounds ominous."

"Well, I'm that kind of guy right now. Do you know a man named Albert Mueller?"

"No, I don't know anybody by that name. You said that you have a couple of questions. What's the other one?"

"This one goes back a few years. Do you remember when Cleve got killed?"

"Yeah. I was one of the pallbearers at his funeral," he admitted. "You're going back a-ways, aren't you?"

"I'm going to ask this question one time, and you had better level with me. Are you the one who told Cleve where Jill was living?"

On the other end of the line, the silence was deafening. That was answer enough in Mike's eyes. "Yeah, I told him," he finally answered. "But Mike, if I had known about the mental hospital, I never would've said anything! I swear it!"

"James, that's a crock of shit and you know it!" Mike bellowed into the phone. "How could you have not known when everybody else did?"

"Mike, I lost track of him. His brothers left this area a long time ago. I never kept tabs on him, if you know what I mean. I had better things to do with my time."

"Brothers? I thought he just had one brother."

"Bill's his biological brother. He has two stepbrothers; Bubba and C.J. I don't know where they are."

"I have to go," Mike hung up the phone.

Now he had two more people to track down besides Bill. Trap still hadn't given him the contact information for Bill Andrews. He wondered if Cleve had been close to the two stepbrothers. Somehow Mike doubted it since they weren't blood relatives. And names like Bubba and C.J. didn't help. He sometimes wondered if anybody in the South used their real names, instead of nicknames and initials.

He got up when he heard the front door open. He walked into the living room just as Jill was walking toward the stairs with a sleeping Mary Kate in her arms. "Do you want me to take her?"

"I've got her. I'll be down in a few minutes," she kissed him before going upstairs.

Mike grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and went to the back patio. He sat at the picnic table, smiling when Seven trotted up to him with a tennis ball in his mouth. "Sit," Mike commanded before he took the ball and tossed it across the yard. "Bring it!"

He'd thrown the ball three or four times by the time Jill joined him. He leaned his head back when he felt her massaging his shoulders. "Did you get your work done?" She sat down beside him and reached for his beer.

"Would you like me to get you one of those?" He grinned when she downed a third of the bottle.

"I'd love one," she smiled, watching him go into the house. He returned seconds later with a beer for her and another one for himself. "Thank you. Your mother is going to pick Mary Kathryn up Thursday and take her to school on Friday morning. We just gained one more day of freedom." 

"I have to work Friday," he reminded her.

"So do I."

"You never told me that Cleve had stepbrothers."

"They were never around. They were already teenagers when Cleve's mom married their dad. I remember that one of them drove a '63 'Vette. My grandfather hated him."

"Your grandfather hated the whole clan. He told me once that they should've all been drowned at birth. What was their last name?"

"I don't remember," she got up from the table. "Like I just told you, they were never around."

"Jill," he stopped her. "Believe me, I'm not doing this to upset you. I need to know what the tie-in is."

"I know. I'm going to start dinner. Go wake Mary Kathryn up or she'll never go to bed on time."

"She's going to be grumpy," he warned her.

"Then, you have two choices. Either you have a grumpy, but awake Mary Kathryn now, or you stay up until three in the morning. The choice is entirely yours."

"A grumpy kid is the lesser of the two evils."

"I knew that you'd see it my way."

The following Thursday was Jill's birthday. She'd already received a lot of well wishes from friends and co-workers all morning long. She was on the phone when someone rapped on her office door. She smiled when she saw Terry and Willie standing there. "This is a nice surprise," she got up and walked over, greeting each of them with a kiss.

"Happy birthday," Terry handed her a bouquet of flowers. "There are from us and the girls. What does Mr. Romance have planned for tonight? I understand that your mother-in-law is taking the kid for the weekend."

"I don't know what he has up his sleeve. He hasn't said. He's been scatter-brained all week." 

"I know," Terry agreed. "This case is tying him up in knots. Nobody seems to know where Albert Mueller has materialized from."

"Whatever he has planned, I'm sure you're going to be surprised," Willie told her. "We have to get back. Have fun tonight and enjoy your birthday."

"And here's to hoping that Mike doesn't have another run-in with armed militants," Terry added, causing Jill to shudder at the memory of a long-ago birthday when Mike had almost died after being shot by the leader of a militant group.

"At least I know Mueller isn't one of those. Tell Mike to please try to get out of work on time," she begged Terry.

"He'll leave on time if I have to handcuff him and drag him out myself. We'll see you later," Terry grinned.

When Jill got home, she debated on whether to change clothes or wait to follow Mike's lead when he arrived home. Maybe he was going to cook dinner for her. With Mary Kathryn out of the house, they could have a nice, candlelit dinner. As much as Jill loved her daughter, she missed the late-night dinners with Mike.

However, she wasn't prepared for what happened when Mike got home. He walked into the house 45 minutes after her, kissing her, as usual. "Are you sure that it's almost Halloween?" He complained, loosening his tie. "The air conditioning was out in the squad room and it's hotter than hell outside. What's for dinner?"

Jill was taken aback by his question. She couldn't even muster the words to ask if he was kidding. 'What's for dinner?' It was her birthday! Was he seriously expecting her to cook? One look at his face told her that he was. She didn't know whether to be hurt or angry, watching him walk past her and up the stairs to their bedroom.

For the rest of the evening, Mike couldn't figure out why he was getting the cold shoulder from his wife. She was answering his questions in barely civil one and two word responses.  
When they went to bed later, it was all that Jill could do to keep from crying herself to sleep. She felt like this damn case was destroying not only her marriage, but her sanity.

The next morning, it was Terry who turned on the light bulb over Mike's head. He looked up when Mike walked into the squad room. "Where did you and Jill go last night for her birthday?" Mike stopped short with a stunned look on his face. "Oh, man. Please tell me that you didn't forget!"

"No wonder she was pissed off. I was trying to figure out all night why she was pissed off at me."

"Michael, my man, you are a real pisser. Do you know that?" Terry couldn't hide his disgust in his best friend. "Forgetting your old lady's birthday and/or your anniversary are cardinal sins. Women have filed for divorce over those two things. You should know that by now."

"Terry, how do I fix this?"

"Are you kidding? You're the marriage expert. That's why my old lady is a live-in."

At the hospital, Jill was sitting at her desk, still fighting fits of rage over Mike's forgetfulness. She was still sitting there when someone knocked on her door. She opened the door to find a deliveryman standing there holding a huge vase of roses. She tried not to smile at the sight of the yellow and pink roses, her favorites. She wanted to be mad, and Mike wasn't going to make that easy. She took the flowers, signed the register, and went back to her desk. She put the vase on her desk and opened the car. _'I know that I'm a total ass. Please forgive me. I promise that I'll make things up to you. Mike.'_ "Oh, you got that right," she said to herself.

When she walked into the house later that afternoon, she heard noises coming from the kitchen along with the smell of something wonderful cooking. She tried not to smile when she walked into the kitchen. "I wanted to stay mad at you for at least a few more hours. I wanted to make you suffer just a little," she stopped in the doorway, watching Mike putter around the kitchen.

"Baby, I am so sorry," he walked over and enfolded her into his arms, holding her as tightly as he could. "Why didn't you say something?"

"I didn't want you to feel guilty," she burrowed her chin into his shoulder, enjoying the feeling of being in his arms. She felt like she'd always belonged right here.

"No, you left that up to Terrence," he reluctantly let her go. "Dinner will be ready in an hour. Go take a shower and then come to keep me company."

"Have you talked to the baby?"

"Mary Kate is fine and is having the time of her life."

"Did you tell her that I will call her later?"

"I did. Go take a shower," he repeated.

She smiled when she walked into their bedroom and saw one of her dresses hanging on the back of the bathroom door. She read the note that was pinned to it. _'Wear this to dinner. There's more on the vanity.'_

On the vanity were two small gift-wrapped boxes. One contained a small bottle of perfume while the other contained a thin gold chain with a diamond on the end of it. She could barely breathe when she ran the thin chain through her fingers. While Mike had screwed up the night before, he was making up for it in fine fashion.

Mike looked up when she walked back into the kitchen half an hour later. "I love my necklace. Can you hook it for me?" She turned so he could fasten the necklace around her neck. "I take it that the American Express card got a workout today."

"Yes, it did," he clasped the necklace before kissing the back of her neck.

"Did you leave Terry in charge of Mueller's mind games for the night?"

"I don't want to talk about him for the rest of the weekend."

"I can do that."

Dinner was wonderful. Mike had fixed her favorites and they ate by candlelight without constant interruptions to cut meat or to remind a certain little girl to eat her vegetables. It was wonderful to sit and talk about what was going on in each other's lives. It was fun to laugh together, like old times. "Terry promised me yesterday that he wouldn't let you run into militants."

"Ouch, don't remind me. That had to have been the birthday from hell."

"It was," she agreed.

"I didn't make dessert, but that doesn't mean that there isn't dessert," he looked at her with a meaningful gleam in his eyes.

"We can even leave the bedroom door opened and make as much noise as we want," she bantered back.

"We don't even have to use the bedroom."

"No, we don't," she took a sip of her wine. "Dinner was wonderful. Thank you."

"Am I forgiven?"

"I'll let you know after dessert."

"Are you upset that we didn't go out?" He asked, refilling her wine glass.

"No. I like this much better," she glanced at him over her wine glass. She knew that the fear was never going to go away, not even after nine years.

"I need to change the oil in my car in the morning, but afterwards I thought that we could go to Santa Monica for the day."

"I'd like that." Santa Monica was a favorite destination for them, and the weather was perfect for a day on the boardwalk.

After dinner, Jill sat and watched Mike clean up. Dinner had been wonderful, but she found herself wondering if she was letting him off the hook a little too easily. In 13 years of being together, 11 of them as a married couple, this had been the first time that he'd ever forgotten her birthday. She looked up when Mike walked around the bar and drew her closer to him. "Are you going to play hard to get?" He asked when she pulled back from him.

"Do you want me to?" Her voice was coy.

"I don't want to resort to taking a cold shower. I feel bad. I feel really bad," he reiterated, his expression serious. "I don't even have an excuse for forgetting. It shouldn't have happened."

"No, you don't. And, no it shouldn't have happened," she was not about to disagree with him. "You know if someone could say . . . serve me blueberry pancakes in bed tomorrow morning, I might be more willing to forgive him."

"I'm not sure we have any blueberries," he moved closer and nibbled on her bottom lip.

"Then, I suggest that you do something in the morning to remedy that situation."

"Will you settle for pecans? I know that we have pecans in the pantry," he deepened his kiss.

"Uh-uh. Blueberry," she once again moved away from him.

"Now I know where Mary Kate gets her negotiation skills. Heaven help her husband."

"Mary Kathryn doesn't negotiate. She gets her way because she's _spoiled_ ," she moved her hands down to his butt and squeezed.

"I don't see how that can possibly be."

"Are we really going to sit here and discuss our daughter when we could be upstairs doing much more interesting, _adult_ things?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

"Sweep me off my feet, Danko," she whispered against his neck before she got up from the barstool.

"I have to lock up. I'll meet you upstairs."

"Don't take too long. I don't want to come back down here looking for you."

When Jill opened her eyes the next morning, bright sunlight was streaming through the bedroom windows and Mike was standing at her side of the bed carrying a tray complete with blueberry pancakes, bacon, orange juice, and coffee. "I made enough for two. Do you mind if I share your breakfast in bed?"

"Not at all, lieutenant," she grinned when he placed the tray between them and climbed into bed. "Good morning."

After breakfast, they made love once again before taking showers and getting ready for the day.

Mike was under his car in the driveway when he saw six pairs of feet. "Are you officially out of the doghouse?" Willie asked.

"This time," Mike slide out from under the car and stood up, using a rag to wipe the oil from his hands. "Jill's in the house," he told Serena and Jennifer, watching the women walk toward the house with Willie's two kids.

Thomas and Natalie went out to play on the swing set while Jill put out coffee for herself and her two friends. After admiring her necklace, Jennifer poured herself a cup of coffee. "I can't believe that you forgave him so easily. If William had forgotten my birthday, I would've killed him."

"I made up my mind a long time ago that getting upset about petty stuff is nonsense. I'm married to a police officer. Every time he walks out that front door could be the last time. I don't waste time getting angry about stupid stuff. If you were smart, Jennifer, you wouldn't either."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Jennifer's eyes flashed angrily.

"The first year after we were reunited, I made a fuss about Mike's birthday. There was a big case that they were all working on, so Mike could've cared less about celebrating his birthday. I was upset and I was hurt. The next morning, Mike was taken hostage by a man who strapped a belt loaded with C-4 around him. He was holding a dead man's switch, which meant if the cops tried anything to rescue Mike, the belt would detonate. When Mike came home later that night, that was when I made up my mind that getting upset over petty things didn't mean anything if I lost him."

"I'm sorry, Jill," Jennifer whispered.

"Believe it or not, that's not the worst one. A year and a half before I had Mary Kathryn, Mike got shot by the leader of a militant group on my birthday. Terry and Chris were the ones who came to give me the news. That time, I did almost lose him. He still has effects from it. After he recovered, we both decided never again. I'm not saying that we don't ever fight, because believe me, we do. But we've learned to pick our battles."

"What happened to them? To both of them?" Serena clarified.

"Crillen is the name of the man who shot Mike on my birthday. He killed his cellmate while he was in custody on the hospital prison ward. That earned him life in prison without parole. The guy who took Mike hostage went to prison, but he died a few years later. Jennifer, we don't intentionally keep you and Serena out of the loop. There are just some things that are too painful to talk about over and over again. It's easier to talk about the lighthearted stuff."

Saturday night, after making love, Mike and Jill were both dozing off when the police line rang. Mike glanced at the clock on Jill's side of the bed. It wasn't late, just past 10 o'clock, but he still found himself wondering who was calling. "Hello?" He answered the phone.

"Is this Lt. Danko?" A young girl's voice came across the line.

"This is he," he confirmed.

"Lieutenant, my name is Patty Hanes. You talked to my boyfriend about a month ago. Right after Adam Mueller disappeared."

"Who's your boyfriend, Ms. Hanes?" Mike sat up.

"Henry Guerra. He's a friend of Adam's. We were talking today, and he told me that you were asking who Adam was supposed to be meeting the Monday after he vanished."

"Do you know who Adam was meeting with?" He looked at Jill, who was also now sitting up.

"He had a meeting with my mother. I'm the person who put him in contact with her. My mother works for the Attorney General's Office."


	6. Just Who's Playing Who Here?

**Summary: Mike and Terry begin investigating Adam Mueller's possible meeting with the Attorney General's Office while Eddie Ryker begins delving into the possible link between Albert Mueller and Jill's past. Who is he and what does he want with Jill? Meanwhile, Mike, Jill, and Mary Kathryn have Thanksgiving dinner with Mike's family, but things don't go exactly as planned, putting more strain on Mike and Jill's marriage.**

 **A/N #1: I'm sorry that I haven't updated the story in several months. I haven't felt like writing. Now I have serious family issues, which lets my writing distract me.**

 **A GAME OF CAT AND MOUSE**

 **Chapter 6: Just Who's Playing Who Here?**

Steve Brinker looked up from his desk at the attractive young girl who had just walked in. "May I help you?" He asked when he noticed her looking around the detective's room as if she were lost.

"I was looking for either Lt. Danko or Det. Webster. Lt. Danko asked me to meet him here this morning."

"Did he now? It appears that Lt. Danko and his partner are running late. Maybe I can help you instead," Brinker straightened his tie.

"No, thank you. I think that I should wait for one of them," the girl glanced around the room, feeling uncomfortable. This cop, whoever he was, was giving her the creeps.

"Patty?" She turned around as Mike approached her. "I'm Det. Lt. Michael Danko. My partner, Det. Terrence Webster will be joining us shortly," he gave Brinker a pointed look. "Can I offer you something to drink before we get started? Coffee or a soda, maybe?"

"No, thank you. Are we going to talk out here?" She gave Brinker a quick glance.

"No. We can go to an interview room as soon as Det. Webster gets here. And, it appears that he is here now. Come on," he led her into an interview room and waited until she was seated across the table from him and Terry before he switched on a microphone in the center of the table. "Patty, is it all right if I record our conversation? It's for your protection, as well as ours."

"I'm not in trouble, am I?" Patty's face went pale.

Mike looked at the young woman sitting across from them. Even though she had told him on the phone that she was 18, she didn't appear older than 15. She had shoulder length brown hair and green eyes. She was dressed in a peasant blouse and a pair of faded jeans. "You're not in trouble," he assured her before reciting the necessary information onto the tape before he turned his attention to Patty. "How did you know Adam Mueller?"

"He and my boyfriend, Henry Guerra, were friends. I didn't know him very well myself. We had a couple of classes together. But we never really talked outside of class."

"When did that change?" Mike asked.

"We were in chemistry class one day and he asked me who he could go to if he knew that someone was breaking the law. That's when I told him that my mother worked for the Attorney General's Office. I told him that she could advise him on what he should do."

"Did he say who was breaking the law?" Terry asked.

"He said that his stepdad and some of his stepdad's friends were doing things that they shouldn't have been doing."

"Did he say if it had anything to do with his sister?"

"You mean, like they were molesting her or something?"

"Yes."

"One of my friends used to babysit for the Mueller's. She told me that Mr. Mueller was weird, but I don't know if she meant in that way."

"Can I have your friends name?" Mike pulled out his notepad.

"Becky. Rebecca Crawford," Patty bit on her thumbnail. "I really don't want to get a lot of people involved in this."

"Did Adam talk to your mother?" Mike asked.

"He made the appointment, but then he never showed up. My mother said that he probably got scared and just blew her off."

"Patty, did you tell your mother that Adam is missing?" Terry asked.

"She saw it on the news, and she asked me if he was the same boy that was supposed to come in to talk to her. When I said that he was, she seemed a little worried, but she never said anything else to me about it."

"Did Adam tell you anything about what his stepdad and his friends were doing?" Terry asked.

"No. He just said that it was illegal."

"Did he seem scared for either his or Erika's safety?" Mike asked.

"He was worried about his mom. He told me that his stepdad had beat her up before. He was scared that it would happen again."

"Patty, one more question. Could we have your mom's name and phone number? We'd like to talk to her."

"She's going to be mad because I got involved. She's always telling me to mind my own business."

"Patty, you're doing the right thing here." Mike consoled her. "We'll take every bit of help we can get to find Adam. Come on, I'll walk you out," Mike turned off the tape recorder and escorted the teenage girl from the room.

"I'm sorry that I called so late the other night," she apologized as they walked downstairs. "We never talked about Adam, but the other day Henry mentioned that you'd asked about his meeting. I would've called you sooner if I had known."

"I'm glad that you called when you did. If you think of anything else, don't hesitate to call."

"Thank you, Lt. Danko," she smiled and shook his hand.

"New girlfriend?" Brinker asked when Mike re-entered the squad room a few minutes later.

"Pull your mind out of the gutter, Brinker," Mike sat down and dialed the number that Patty had given him for her mother's office. "May I speak to Nora Hanes, please? My name is Michael Danko. I'm calling from the Santa Costa Police Department."

"One moment, please."

After being placed on terminal hold for more than five minutes, a woman's voice finally came on the other end of the line. "This is Nora Hanes. May I help you?"

"I certainly hope so, Ms. Hanes," Mike said. "My name is Lt. Michael Danko and I'm a detective with the Santa Costa Police Department. I'd like to speak to you regarding Adam Mueller."

"I'll tell you something, Lieutenant. You have sure taken your sweet time getting around to talking to me," she snorted in irritation.

"I just learned about you this morning, Ms. Hanes—"

"It's Mrs. Hanes, Lieutenant. I'm not a women's libber."

"Okay, _Mrs_. Hanes. As I was just saying, we just learned about you from your daughter. Why didn't you contact us?"

"It's complicated."

"Well, how about if my partner and I come down to your office in say . . . an hour," he looked at his watch, "and you can clear it up for us. I promise that we'll try to keep up."

"I have meetings all morning," she hedged. "I have an hour free between three and four this afternoon."

"We look forward to meeting with you at three o'clock, Mrs. Hanes," Mike ended the call and looked over at Terry. "Terry, call Serena and then call Mrs. Mueller. Let's see if we can re-interview Erika one day this week. Let's find out once and for all if this kid is the key."

"You've got it," Terry picked up his telephone receiver and started dialing.

"Hey, Mike?" Mike turned toward Brinker. "Where in the hell do you suppose a place like Joshua's Creek would be located?"

"Do I look like I have time for a geography lesson now?" Mike got up from his desk, missing the smirk that appeared on his former partner's face.

"I'll be back in about an hour, Webster," Brinker got up and left the squad room.

"I'll be waited with bated breath," Terry watched the detective leave the room. Sometimes he thought the guy was one French fry short of a Happy Meal.

"Where'd Tweedle Dee the Wonder Dummy go?" Mike returned to his desk with a fresh cup of coffee.

"I don't know. He said that he'd be back in about an hour. Have you ever wondered if sometimes that dude is just a little 51/50?" Terry asked, using the New York reference for a psycho.

"Terry, that dude is a _lot_ 51/50."

"It makes you glad that you ditched him, huh?" Terry looked over at his partner and best friend, as Mike couldn't help but grin.

"Well, you're definitely a snazzier dresser."

"Not to mention much better looking," Terry laughed when Mike threw a crumpled ball of paper at him.

"Don't break your arm patting yourself on the back. Don't you have phone calls to make?"

"Yes, sir."

Later that afternoon, they drove to the Attorney General's Office in downtown Los Angeles. "A Ms. Cabot from Child Protective Services is going to come to the precinct on Thursday morning to talk to Erika Mueller. I've already confirmed the appointment with Mrs. Mueller," Terry told Mike.

"Great."

"Serena was telling me that Jill told her and Jennifer about Crillen and Fenner. Why would she do that?"

"Do you remember Jared Whitman's wife, Birgitta?" Mike saw Terry nod. "She once told Jill that they were lucky to be the wives of police officers. Because no matter what happens, before a cop walks out of this front door, his wife always makes sure that she tells him that she loves him. Because that could be the last time she sees him alive. Jill and I vowed a long time ago that petty crap would never come between us. Especially after the incident with Fenner. I think that Jill was trying to convey that message to Jennifer."

"Serena mentioned that Jennifer thought that Jill had forgiven you far too easily for forgetting her birthday. But it makes sense to me now."

"All Jill cares about is seeing me walk back through our door at the end of the shift."

"Good point," Terry smiled at his friend.

Mrs. Hanes' secretary kept Mike and Terry waiting for more than 15 minutes before they were finally buzzed into her office.

Entering the office, they were greeted by a tall woman in her early to mid-40's, dressed in a black business suit and black heels. "Lt. Danko?" She held out her hand as Mike shook it.

"This is my partner, Det. Webster," Mike introduced Terry as Mrs. Hanes motioned them to take two chairs in front of her desk.

"As my daughter undoubtedly told you, while I did have an appointment with Adam Mueller, I never met him in person," she apologized, walking behind her desk and taking her seat.

"Adam told Patty that he thought his stepfather and some of his friends' were engaged in possible illegal activities. Do you know anything about that?" Mike saw her expression change as she shifted in her seat.

"Lieutenant, you've put me in a somewhat difficult position."

"How so?"

"I've read that Mr. Mueller is being held on murder charges. Will these charges stick if Adam's body is never found?"

"We have enough forensic evidence to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that the boy is most likely deceased. Why?"

"This case is rather sticky. I want to help you. Believe me, I do. But to an extent, my hands are tied."

"To what extent?" Mike began wondering what in the hell he and Terry had stumbled into.

"Would you please hold on for just a moment?" She held up her index finger before picking up her telephone receiver and dialing a number. "George, could you come into my office, please?"

Within two minutes, the office door opened and a man in his early 40's walked in. He was wearing the dark suit of a federal agent. "Lt. Danko, Det. Webster, this is George Standish of the FBI. Maybe he can tell you more than I can. George, these detectives are investigating the disappearance of Adam Mueller."

"We need to know why Adam had scheduled a meeting with the AG's office," Mike said.

"Gentlemen, I'm afraid that our investigation is ongoing . . . "

"Would you please let us in? Let us know what direction you're going in so that we can find this boy and give his mother some peace!" Mike shouted at the agent.

"We're investigating Deputy Mueller and several other deputies in his department. Actually, we're investigating the entire LASO (Los Angeles Sheriff's Office)."

"Investigating them for what?" Terry asked.

"Corruption, kickbacks, theft. You name it, we're pretty much looking into it. That's all that I can say right now. Let me just say that your guy Mueller is facing federal charges and he's aware of it. He has been for some time."

"That could explain his game playing," Terry whispered to Mike.

"Game playing?" Standish cocked an eyebrow.

"Never mind," Mike shot a look at Terry, sending a silent message that warned him not to give the feds too much information about their case. "I'll have to let my captain know that the feds are investigating Mueller and his department. I don't think I have to tell you that he's not going to be pleased."

"Whoever solves their case first can have first crack at him," Standish offered magnanimously.

"That's mighty big of you," Mike's voice was laced with sarcasm. "How many deputies with the LASO are involved in this?"

"We're not at liberty to say."

On their way back to the precinct, neither Mike nor Terry said anything for several miles. "Mueller's got to know that his chances are better if he works with the feds than if he works with us. If he gives them names, the feds will probably work to get the murder charges reduced in our case," Terry said.

"Something tells me that he's not willing to work with either department. He's going to continue to sit in his cell, chat with the guards and his cellmate, and continue to play his little game of cat and mouse," Mike answered back.

"What was up with that question that Brinker asked earlier? I swear that dude is turning as nutty as a fruitcake."

"I try not to pay attention to anything Brinker says."

At the lakeside cottage, Ryker was sitting at his desk in front of his large picture window re-reading the file he held in his hands. He wasn't sure who Albert Mueller was, but there was nothing in the file that he was reading that tied to either Mike or Jill Danko. Mueller had never lived in the South. He'd been born in Germany to a German mother and an American G.I. father. He'd come to the U.S. as a young child; had grown up mainly on the East Coast; had joined the Army and had done one tour of duty in Vietnam. He'd never crossed paths with Mike.

After leaving the Army, he'd settled down in Los Angeles. He had been married to Greta Mueller for 10 years. They had one daughter, Erika, aged eight, and he had adopted Greta' son, Adam, shortly after Erika's birth. Mrs. Mueller had filed for divorce several months before, citing spousal abuse. Her son, Adam, age 18, was currently missing and presumed dead.

Ryker looked up when he heard a tap on the front door. "Come in!" He called out.

"Is that Mike's case?" Trap asked, walking into the small front room.

"It's the suspect in Mike's case. It's his case file. Sit for a minute, Applegate," Ryker ordered, waiting until Trap sat in a nearby armchair. "When you lived in that house with Jill and Cleve, did you know anybody else?"

"A lot of people came and went, but nobody by the name of Mueller. Cleve knew a bunch of bikers, but I never knew any of their real names."

"Hell's Angels?" Ryker was intrigued.

"No, they weren't Angels. I don't remember who they rode with. They were Cleve's dope suppliers."

"And yours' and Jill's?"

"I'm not going to deny that I smoked pot and took 'Ludes. So did Jill. For Jill, it was the only way to endure the hell that was her life in that house."

"Applegate, I'm sure that you did the best you could," Ryker said.

"Yeah, but my best wasn't good enough. So, have you found any connection between Mueller and Jill?" He changed the subject.

"No."

"Mueller's got to be getting his information from somewhere. Where do you go from here?"

"I was hoping that you could help me with that." Ryker noticed Trap starting to look uncomfortable. "Can you think of anybody that would know those things about Jill? People you grew up with? Anybody?"

"Not offhand. There were only a handful of people who know every detail about what went on in that house. Me, Jill, and Cleve. And, as you're aware, Cleve is dead."

"Thanks to me."

"According to Mike, if you hadn't killed him, he probably would've killed Jill."

"Not probably, Applegate. He had a gun pointed at the back of her head. He was going to kill her, and then he was going to kill Danko. Believe me, it was a good shoot."

"I've talked to my brother in Florida. He never had much to do with any of the Alabama people. Bill Andrews claims that Cleve never told him anything about the happenings in that house. I don't quite believe that."

"Why?"

"Cleve had a big mouth. He bragged to Jill's cousin about the things that he'd done to her. His version was a lot different than Jill's."

"Anybody else?"

"Not that I can think of."

"Do you have a number for Bill Andrews? I know that he claimed Cleve's body after he was killed."

"I'll get it for you."

"Thank you."

When they got back to the precinct, Mike called and arranged for Mueller to be brought to an interrogation room at the jail. He and Terry were sitting at the table when the guard brought Mueller in half an hour later. "Long time, no see, Detectives," Mueller smirked as the guard cuffed him to the table and he pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "Do you mind?"

"Knock yourself out," Terry slid a book of matches across the table.

"Why was your son meeting with the AG?" Mike asked, secretly pleased when Mueller's face went slightly pale.

"I have no idea," Mueller quickly regained his composure. "Did your kid enjoy her weekend with her grandparents?"

What happened next happened so fast that Terry never had time to react. Mike was out of his chair, holding Mueller by his shirt collar, shoving so hard that the table went into the back wall. "You motherfucker! Stop using my wife and my kid as pawns in your sick, twisted game! You stupid fuck!"

"Mike!" Terry grabbed his partner by the arms, pulling him away when guards ran into the room. "We're okay!" Terry shouted at them.

"Are you sure?" One guard asked, uncertainty sketched all over his face.

"I said that we're okay!" Terry repeated. The guards slowly backed out of the room and closed the door behind them. "Mike, get out of here."

"I'm okay."

"No, you're not. Get out of here or I'm calling Fuller."

Mike eased away from Muller and took a couple of deep breaths before leaving the room. "Wow, your partner needs to ease up on the caffeine," Mueller rolled his shoulders.

"Sit your ass down and shut the fuck up," Terry snarled.

"I've heard of good cop/bad cop, but bad cop/bad cop is a first," Mueller's tone remained jovial.

"Why don't you tell me what the Feds have on you?"

"They don't have anything, or they'd be here questioning me. Have you known your buddy Danko a long time? I bet that you went through the academy together, didn't you? I can tell. Three tours in Vietnam would make anybody edgy."

"Let's talk about the feds."

"Let's not and say that we did. Like I said, if they had anything, they'd be standing in line to question me. I'm not worried."

"Maybe you should be."

"No," Mueller shook his head. "I think that your buddy Danko should be worried about the games that his wife used to play. She could get in the mood to play them again."

"Why don't you be square with me, Mueller? It could work in your favor. How do you know Mike's wife?"

"I never said that I knew her. I just know _things_ about her. You see, all you have to know is two or three of the right people, and information can flow like water. Sort of like Joshua's Creek."

That was the second time that day that Terry had heard the name of Joshua's Creek. The first time had been that morning and it had come from Mike's former partner. "How do you know Lt. Brinker?"

"He's interrogated me. But I haven't spoken to him in a couple of months. I thought that he'd retired or something. I haven't seen him," he repeated.

"What's Joshua's Creek?"

"How should I know? I heard the name of the place and thought it sounded catchy. Like a country and western song. I probably saw it in a book or heard it in a movie. Bring Danko back in. No offense, Webster, but you bore me."

"How many other deputies are being looked at by the feds?" Terry changed the subject.

"The last that I heard, the whole department was. It would really suck if the whole Sheriff's Department was corrupt, wouldn't it? It just boggles the mind. I think that I'd like to go back to my cell now."

Terry had the guard remove Mueller and then he went to find Mike. He found his partner pacing back and forth in the lobby, trying to regain his composure. "Mike, you need to get your act together. If you pull something like that again, I'm going to have to go to Fuller. I won't have a choice."

"I'm tired of him using Jill and Mary Kate to serve his purpose!"

"Mike, do you remember this morning when Brinker said something about Joshua's Creek?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"Mueller just mentioned the same place. What is Joshua's Creek?"

"I don't know. I've never heard of it."

"But maybe Jill has," Terry suggested.

"What time is it?" Mike glanced at his watch. "Let's clock out of here and go home. Jill should be there by now."

At home, Jill was cooking dinner while Mary Kathryn colored in her coloring book at the counter. "Mom, why do we have Thanksgiving? I don't even like turkey, cranberry sauce, or pumpkin pie. I'd rather have pizza."

"It has to do with the Pilgrims. They were among the first settlers in America and they had Thanksgiving as a way to share thanks with the Indians who were nice enough to let them live on their land."

"Oh. I thought that it was just an excuse to have a parade and watch a bunch of football games," Mary Kathryn said as her mother laughed. "Can we still have pizza instead of turkey?"

"Sorry, sweetheart. Your grandmother is going all out, and she wants everyone there."

"Daddy's home!" Mary Kathryn shouted when she heard the garage door coming up.

"Where are my girls?" Mike called out when he entered the house with Terry.

"Daddy!" Mary Kate ran over and leaped into his arms before reaching out to Terry, who scooped her up.

"What's wrong?" Jill asked when Mike walked over and kissed her.

"Mary Kate, let's go outside and say 'hi' to Seven," Terry suggested, putting the little girl down on the floor and letting her lead him outside.

"What's going on?" Jill asked once the back door had closed.

"What's Joshua's Creek?" Mike came straight to the point as he walked over and grabbed a beer from the refrigerator.

"Do you mean Old Joshua's Creek? Trap and I played there when we were kids. Why are you asking?"

"Not only did Mueller bring it up today, so did Brinker. Did you know Brinker back in the day?" He took a long swallow of his beer.

"Mike, I never met Brinker until you brought him over when you first became his partner. I didn't like him then, and I don't like him now."

"How does he know about a place where you went as a kid?"

" _I don't know_! I'm getting tired of you interrogating me about things and people that I don't remember!" She threw her dish rag down on the counter before running upstairs.

Watching from his vantage point at the picnic table, Terry knew that things had just gotten very tense between his best friend and Jill. He found himself wondering for the ten thousandth time if she'd let him in and talk to him. He felt that Jill needed someone to talk to who wasn't so mired down in her past life. He looked down at Mary Kate, who was playing with the dog. "Mary Kate? Why don't we go over to my house for a little while?"

"Mom is cooking dinner. Why do you want me to go to your house?"

"I'm thinking that maybe your mom and daddy would like to be alone for a little while. Come on. I'll make you dinner at my house."

"Terry, you can't cook," she reminded him.

"So, we'll go to McDonald's, instead. Come on, we'll tell your daddy," he got up and walked over to the sliding glass door as Mike looked up. "I'm going to take Mary Kate to my place for a couple of hours. That way, you two can talk."

"Okay," Mike walked over and knelt in front of Mary Kate. "Mind Terry and I'll come get you soon," he kissed her cheek.

"Are you and mom fighting?" Mary Kate asked in a small voice.

"No. I'll see you soon. Terry?" Terry turned around from the garage door. "Thank you."

Shortly after Terry had left with Mary Kate, Jill came back downstairs, her cheeks wet from crying. She sat down on one of the bar stools and looked at her husband. "Mike, I'd love to tell you that I knew Brinker and Mueller, and anybody else that you want to throw at me. But I can't. When I was living in that house in Beverly Hills, I knew dudes with names like Bear, Killer, and Ace. I never knew any of their real names. Who knows? Maybe one of them works as a jail guard or something now. I'm just tired," she sighed. "I know that you're doing your job. I know that your very dedicated to your job, and I appreciate that. But I'm tired of constantly feeling as if I'm under attack for crap that happened when I was 14 years old! I had no control over my life then, and I'm beginning to feel like I don't have any control over it now."

"I'm sorry."

"Do you want to know the scariest thing of all? This is the way that my mind was racing that morning before I went into the bathroom and put a straight razor to my wrists. I've never once felt or thought that way since I've been married to you. I _never_ wanted to go back there again!"

Mike stared at her in stunned disbelief. What in the hell was he doing to her? What was he doing to them? Ryker and Trap were right. The past was where it belonged. In the past. "Baby, please believe me when I tell you that I never meant to upset you like this. I don't know what this guy is doing to my head. I came this close to killing him this afternoon. If Terry hadn't been there . . . " he didn't finish his sentence, but walked over and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly to his chest, feeling her heart beating against his.

"Mike, ask Fuller to assign this case to someone else. Please?" She begged, clutching the back of his shirt.

"I may not have to. I learned today that the feds are involved."

"Are they taking over?" Jill asked, half-hoping that they were so that things could return to semi-normal in their household.

"Not yet."

Thursday morning, Mike and Terry were met at the precinct by Priscilla Cabot from DCFS. The social worker was in her 20's, with long blonde hair and brown eyes. "Mrs. Mueller and Erika are waiting for us in one of the interrogation rooms," Mike said as they walked upstairs to the detective's squad room.

"The process would be easier if it were just me in the room with the child. I think that she'll find it easier to talk if her mother isn't in the room hanging on her every word."

Mrs. Mueller protested, but finally agreed to watch the interview through a one-way mirror with the two detectives. The little girl was dressed in a blue jumper and a white blouse. Her long blonde hair was hanging over her shoulders. She looked up when Ms. Cabot walked into the room. "Hi, Erika. My name is Priscilla. I'd like to talk to you about your daddy."

"He's in jail," Erika's voice was glum as she picked at her cuticles.

"I know and I'm sorry to hear that. How do you feel about him being in jail?"

"I don't know. He's not yelling at my mom, so that's good. I miss him, though. He'd read to me every night and he did all of the voices in the books."

"Erika, how old are you?"

"Eight. I'll be nine in two weeks."

"So, you're in third grade?" Erika nodded. "Do you understand the difference between good touching and bad touching?"

"My dad taught me that a long time ago."

"Did your dad or any of his friends ever make you feel uncomfortable?"

"No," she shook her head. "His friends didn't pay attention to me."

"What about your daddy? Did he ever make you feel uncomfortable?"

"No."

"What about Adam? Did Adam ever do anything to you?"

"No. He just yelled at my daddy. A lot," she emphasized.

"Did you hear what Adam yelled at your daddy about? Do you remember?"

"One time, I was supposed to be asleep. But I heard Adam yelling at my daddy. He told my daddy that if he didn't get the drugs out of the house, Adam was going to call the police."

Mike and Terry looked at each other before looking at Mrs. Mueller. "I haven't found anything bad in the house."

"I'll call a judge and get a search warrant," Terry left the room.

"When did Adam say that to your daddy?" They turned their attention back to the interrogation rom.

"When I was going to go with my daddy. Before Adam disappeared."

"Erika said that Adam wasn't with her and her father," Mrs. Mueller said. "She has to be lying. Or confused." 

"Mrs. Mueller, you have to be careful when you're interviewing children. If you don't ask the question in the right way, you don't get the right answers. They also sometimes remember things differently than adults do."

"Did you hear anything else when Adam was yelling at your daddy?" Ms. Cabot asked.

"Firecrackers. I heard three firecrackers," Erika told the social worker, holding up three fingers. "After that, I fell asleep. When I woke up, I was at Nana's."

Mike's heart sank for the little girl and her mother. The 'firecrackers' that Erika had heard had undoubtedly been the gunshots that had killed her brother.

After a few more minutes, the social worker ended the interview and stepped outside. "I'm positive that Erika hasn't been sexually exploited. But I'm also positive that she heard her brother's murder."

"Should I ask her more questions?" Mrs. Mueller asked.

"That wouldn't be wise. I'll file my report, and someone will get in touch with you. I'm sure that they'll want to question Erika further. With a child, you don't want to ask too much too soon. The last thing that we want right now is for Erika to think that she's done something bad. Right now, let her be a typical eight-year-old."

"Lt. Danko, there is one more thing that I want to talk to you about," Mrs. Mueller looked at Mike. "I learned that the county is still paying my husband while he sits in your jail. How am I supposed to support myself and Erika while he still earns a paycheck for killing my son?"

"I don't know, but I'll look into it," Mike promised her. "Why don't you get Erika and take her home? Thank you for bringing her in."

Later that night, Mike and Jill were lying in bed. Jill could tell that Mike had something on his mind. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Did you know that the county was still paying Albert Mueller while he sat in jail on murder charges?" Mike's voice rang out in the quiet bedroom.

"They never fired or suspended him?"

"They have now. Terry and I went to the county and pointed out their little 'oversight.' The sheriff was positive that he'd put him on unpaid leave pending the outcome of his trial. Hell, he's as fucking corrupt as the rest of them."

"Language, Mike," Jill warned him.

"I'm sorry, It just pi . . . ticks me off."

"I know," she moved into his arms, as he folded his arm around her, drawing her closer.

The next morning, Terry looked up when Mike walked into the squad room. "Narcotics went over every inch of the Mueller house and didn't find any drugs. So maybe he moved them out of the house and stashing them somewhere else."

"No, he couldn't have," Mike said, sitting down at his desk. "Erika told the social worker that Adam warned his stepfather about the drugs the weekend that he went missing. That means that the dope has to be in the house somewhere."

"Unless Mueller called one of his buddies from the Sheriff's Department and had him go to the house while his old lady was out. You heard what that fed said. The whole department is under investigation. How's Jill?"

"Fine. Why do you ask?"

"She just seemed upset that day when you asked her about—"

"That was my fault. I should've known better than to push her about her past."

"She doesn't know Brinker, does she?"

"She says that she doesn't."

"That sounds like you don't believe her," Terry looked at his friend. "Jill's never lied to you before. I don't think she'd start now."

"I believe her. It's just that two guys talk about a place where she spent time as a kid, and she doesn't know either one of them. I don't know why this puzzle isn't fitting together."

"Have you talked to Ryker lately?"

"No. I was going to go out there tomorrow with Mary Kate. There are kittens in the barn. She thinks if I take her with me that she can milk me for one," he grinned at his partner.

"You have those two women wrapped around your finger."

"And, I wouldn't have it any other way," Mike continued grinning as he began working on paperwork.

The next morning Mike went into the cottage while Mary Kate made her way to the barn. "I'm beginning to think that my goddaughter doesn't like me anymore," Ryker complained when Mike came into the house.

"She's more interested in the kittens in the barn. Have you found anything?" Mike asked, walking into the kitchen and making a cup of coffee.

"Albert Mueller came up a big fat zero. He's never lived in the South, so as far as I can tell, there's no connection to Jill."

"Okay. I have another name for you. Steve Brinker."

"Your partner?"

"My _former_ partner. He's been acting very strange, and he mentioned a place where Jill and Trap spent time as kids. I have a feeling that he's been the one feeding information to Mueller about Jill."

"I'll check into him. It might be slow because of the upcoming holiday. What're you and Jill doing for Thanksgiving?"

"We're going to my parents' house. All my sisters and my brother are going to be there for the first time in years. What about you?"

"They're having a big to-do at the Chess Club."

Jill was cleaning house when the doorbell rang. She looked through the peephole and smiled when she saw Terry standing there. "Mike isn't here," she said after opening the door.

"I know. That's why I'm here," he walked in and Jill closed the door behind him. "I'm sorry that Mike upset you the other day."

"I don't want to talk about that," her voice was low.

"Don't you think that it would help if I knew some of it? We've been friends a long time, Jill. I've guessed a lot of it, but most of it has been speculation. I don't want to know everything that you've told Mike but tell me something. Jill, let me in just a little," he made a sign with his fingers. "I want to understand why your past still has such a hold on you."

"I was in that house for roughly 1800 days. I remember when the Iran hostages were freed. I told Mike that I understood how they felt, and their captivity was only 444 days. A lifetime to them, but a drop in the bucket for me. I can get in the car and drive to where that house was, although I only left it a handful of times in five years."

"He wouldn't let you leave?"

"He wouldn't let me out of his sight. Until I got shot, I couldn't stand sleeping close to Mike and I love him. I'd feel like I was suffocating."

"Did he beat you?"

"All the time. There's other stuff that Mike knows about. I'm sorry, but I can't talk about that stuff with anybody else. I stayed drunk and stoned, but it didn't help. Finally, after roughly 1800 days, I made a fateful choice. The only choice that I could make."

"You cut your wrists," Terry said.

"I never thought that attempting suicide would be a good thing, but when I made that choice that morning in August of 1969, I closed one door and opened another. If I hadn't cut my wrists, I never would've met Mike."

"Do you think that you would've died in that house if you hadn't made the choice that you made?"

"Eventually."

"You don't have to tell me anymore. And I won't tell your old man that you told me anything. At least I have some understanding now," he got up and walked over to her, kissing her on the forehead. "I'll see you later."

Jill closed the door after him, asking herself if she felt any better now that somebody other than Mike knew some of what had transpired in that house. She realized that she didn't really, but she knew that Terry would at least stay true to his word and he wouldn't tell anybody else. She thought about his last question. Would she have died if she had stayed in that house? Yes, if the game had played out to its logical conclusion. Either she would've died, or Cleve would have. At the time, it didn't matter to her which one of them died. At least one of them would've been freed.

Thanksgiving morning, Jill was in Mary Kathryn's bedroom, getting her dressed, while the small girl fidgeted impatiently. "Do I seriously have to wear this stupid, frilly dress?"

"Yes, you have to wear this stupid, frilly dress," Jill answered, turning Mary Kathryn around to face her. "You look lovely. I want you to remember your manners today."

"Mom, I look like Nellie Oleson," Mary Kathryn complained, walking over to the mirror to look at her reflection. Her hair was hanging down her back in long ringlets and was pulled back from her face with a huge white bow. The dress was burgundy with a white petticoat underneath. Finishing the ensemble were white tights and shiny black Mary Jane's.

"You look beautiful," Jill kissed the top of her daughter's head. "Come on; daddy's waiting."

Mike's parents always made a fuss over Mary Kathryn, but today there was a house full of relatives fussing over her, too. At dinner, after grace was said, Mary Kate found herself seated at the kids' table with cousins that she hadn't seen in some time. She looked over her shoulder at the huge dining room table where all the grownups were sitting, including her parents. "Mamie was saying that you're quite the little Mozart," an older girl with long dark hair addressed Mary Kate. "Maybe you can put on a recital after dinner."

"Leave her alone, Diana," another cousin warned.

"Did Mamie buy you that dress?" Diana asked.

Instead of answering, Mary Kate got up and walked into the dining room, standing patiently beside her father until he'd finished talking. "What's wrong, sweetie?" He asked her.

"Daddy, why can't I eat in here? I don't like eating with _them_ ," she pointed at the other table.

"Mary Kate, come over here," her grandfather beckoned her. "Of course you can eat in here. Michael, go and get her plate."

"Pop—" Mike began to protest until he felt a vibration at his hip. He removed his pager from his belt and looked at it. "Excuse me, I have to make a phone call."

"Here, Poppy," Mike's mother brought Mary Kate's plate over by her grandfather's. It took all that Jill had not to roll her eyes when she watched her father-in-law lift Mary Kathryn onto his lap as her daughter began happily eating her dinner.

"I have to go," Mike returned to the dining room. "Mueller wants to talk."

"On Thanksgiving? Mike, are you serious?" Jill asked in irritation. "Hold on and you can drop me and Mary Kathryn off at home."

"No, you stay here. There's no sense in you leaving early. Pop, can you see that Jill and Mary Kate get home safely?"

"Yes, but Michael, can't this interview wait? You're having dinner with your family."

"I wish that it could, Pop, but it can't. I'll see you at home later," he leaned down and kissed Jill, missing the cold look she was giving him.

During the ride home later, Mr. Danko couldn't help noticing how quiet Jill was. "This Mueller guy that I've been reading about in the paper and seeing on the news . . . he still hasn't said where his son is?"

Jill glanced over her shoulder at Mary Kathryn, sitting in the backseat listening to every word. "I don't want to talk about now."

"Michael has always been intense. There's nothing wrong with intensity unless it gets in the way of family," he pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine. "Come on, I'll make sure that you're both safely inside."

"That isn't necessary," Jill got out of the car and opened the back-passenger door for Mary Kathryn.

"Yes, it is," his tone was stern.

When they walked into the house and Jill had locked the door behind her father-in-law, she walked over and sat down on the sofa. She was so mad at Mike right now that she could spit nails. She knew that Mueller was doing this on purpose. Chances were very great that when Mike got to the jail, Mueller wasn't going to tell him anything of any importance regarding his stepson.

From her vantage point on the living room floor, Mary Kathryn could see that her mother was upset and that it had something to do with her daddy. She didn't like it when they were mad at each other. It made her feel funny inside. But she knew a way to make her mom smile. She opened the cabinet under the TV and pulled out the big photo album. She then walked over and sat beside her mom on the sofa. "Please don't be mad at my daddy," she whispered.

"What do you have there?" Jill asked.

"I like to look at pictures of you and daddy. Did you have a big wedding?"

"No, we had a nice small wedding," Jill smiled, lifting Mary Kathryn onto her lap. "It was very pretty."

"Were Willie and Terry there?"

"No. Daddy and I didn't know them, yet. But Trap was there, and so was your cousin, Jimmy."

After looking at several more pages of pictures, Mary Kathryn came across some that made Jill groan. Pictures where she was huge with her daughter. "Was I inside of you?" Mary Kathryn asked.

"Yes, you were. I was in a hurry for you to come out because it was summer, and it was very hot."

"Were you and daddy happy when you found out that you were having me?"

"Your daddy and I were very happy when we found out that you were on the way. We both wanted a baby more than anything in the world," Jill kissed the little girl's hair and held her close to her breast.

"Daddy told me that he cried when you told him that you were having me. Why did he cry?"

"Because he was so happy. Sometimes people cry when they're happy."

"Did you?"

"Yes, I did," Jill remembered, before she looked at the clock over the TV. "You should get in the tub. It's late."

"I want to wait for my daddy. Please, mom? There isn't school tomorrow."

Mueller gave Mike a smirk when he was brought into the interrogation room. "What do you want to talk about, Mueller? I was having dinner with my family," Mike asked after the guard had secured Mueller to the table.

"I just wanted to see if you'd come running down here. You must be desperate for information."

"Do you know that Erika wasn't asleep when you shot Adam?" Mike watched Mueller's expression, but it barely changed.

"I didn't appreciate being threatened by my own kid. I had to put him in his place."

That was the closest Mike had ever gotten to a confession, so he decided to run with it. "What did you do with his body, Mueller?" He slammed his hands on the table.

"I'll tell you what," Mueller sat back in his chair. "If you can get the feds off my back, I might tell you what I did with Adam. I might even give you more than that. But I want the feds to back off."

"How long have they been investigating you and the sheriff's department?"

"It started back in May or June. Stuff started disappearing from the evidence room. I was the person who signed the stuff in, so I was responsible."

"What 'stuff' are we talking about?"

"Two kilos of marijuana and half a kilo of coke. I didn't take the stuff. You can search my house if you want."

"We already have. Erika told us that she heard you and Adam arguing about drugs in the house. Why did Adam think that you'd taken the drugs?"

"Because I'd taken stuff from the property room and evidence room before."

"Drugs?"

"Cash. Money that we'd confiscated during a bust."

"How did Adam know that you'd stolen the money?"

"He heard me and my buddies talking about it. He threatened to turn us in. That's when I bought him the Mustang."

"The feds aren't going to back off."

"Tell them I'll plead out in return for giving them names."

"If they agree to that, will you tell me where Adam is?"

"If they agree to that, I'll tell you everything that you want to know. I'll even tell you who's been feeding me the information about your old lady. But only if the feds back off. If they don't back off, you're still going to be chasing your tail."

"I'll see what I can do," Mike got up and walked over to the door, rapping loudly on it. "Why are you being cooperative all of a sudden?"

"It's Thanksgiving and I'm feeling generous. Maybe I'm as tired of the game playing as you are, Lt. Danko."

Jill was dozing off with a soundly sleeping Mary Kathryn in her lap when she heard the garage door coming up. Minutes later, Mike entered the house and walked into the living room. "Hi," he whispered, walking over and kissing her. "Do you want me to take her upstairs?"

"She wanted to wait up for her daddy," Jill explained. "Take her upstairs, and then come back down here. I'll be out back in the gazebo. We need to talk."

Jill was swinging the gazebo swing slowly back and forth when she heard the sliding glass door open and shut. A minute later, Mike sat down beside her. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sick and tired of hearing those two words from you. For the past three months, you've been sorry for one thing or another. I'm tired of you jumping when Albert Mueller yells 'rabbit.' I hope that it was worth putting me and your daughter on the back burner on _Thanksgiving Day_ of all times! If he calls you on Christmas, I'm seeing a lawyer!"

"For your information, it might have been worth it this time. He made a deal with me. I've got a call in to the feds. Hopefully, Mrs. Mueller will get some peace and justice soon."

"What about the rest? What about the crap about me?"

"He told me if the deal goes through, he'll tell me who's been giving him his information. You know that I love you."

"I know that. Your father commented about your intensity. He said it's a fine thing until you start putting it ahead of family. When this is over, I want us to go away. The three of us as a family. Mary Kathryn deserves it, and so do I."

"Okay," Mike reached for her hand. After a couple of beats, she placed her hand in his, feeling his fingers close around hers. "I'm really sorry, baby."

In his small apartment near the precinct, Steven Brinker was also looking at a photo album, reliving old times. He came across a picture taken before his stepbrother's life had descended into chaos. It was taken shortly before it was decided that he needed to be institutionalized. But he remembered the days before his commitment well. All that his stepbrother had talked about were his days in his father's house in Beverly Hills, and the girl with the huge dark eyes.

Steven had only seen her a few times, but she'd been much younger back then, and she'd never taken any notice of him.

Steven had heard many stories about Cleve and his girlfriend. Sometimes he'd remember days with her fondly, and at other times he'd referred to her as a suicidal maniac. When Cleve had been released from the hospital, he'd gone looking for her, and had found her. Only to be killed by her husband's boss just days later. "I'll get them, Cleve. I swear it. They're both going to pay," he closed the photo album and fingered the gun in his lap.

 **A/N #2: One of my muses was in an extremely abusive relationship. She's the one who has allowed me to use her stories. I can't imagine how trapped she must have felt.**

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	7. The Game Plays Out

**A/N #1: I apologize that this story has taken so long to write. I hope it will be worth it. I just haven't been in the mood to write in a very long time.**

 **SUMMARY:** Everything comes to a dramatic conclusion when Mike learns that someone he'd thought of as a colleague isn't what he appears to be, and Jill reveals the final, horrifying secret of her past to Mike.

 **A GAME OF CAT AND MOUSE**

 **CHAPTER 7: The Game Plays Out**

It was a cool December morning. Mike and the Assistant District Attorney were sitting in an interrogation room with Albert Mueller, who had agreed to give a statement regarding the events leading up to his stepson's death the previous September. In exchange, the FBI and the Attorney General's Office had agreed to let him plead to lesser charges if he truthfully gave them the names of his co-conspirators. As a snitch as well as a child killer, Mueller knew that he'd be a marked man in prison, so he had been promised protective custody.

"Let's talk about the day that you killed Adam," the A.D.A. instructed him. "What happened that day?"

"I came to the house to pick up Erika, but Adam told me that she was still asleep. When I came into the house, Adam began to talk about the drugs that he thought that I had. He told me that he'd made an appointment to talk to someone that coming Monday. I knew that I'd go away for a long time if he made that appointment."

"Is that the argument that Erika heard?" Mike asked.

"I thought that she was asleep, but she must've heard it. I just wanted to talk some sense into Adam. I thought maybe I could bribe him like I did the last time with the car."

"Why did you drug Erika?"

"Erika didn't like it when I fought with Adam. It would make her cry so much that she'd make herself sick. I don't know when I pulled the gun out. I swear to God I don't. I remember us fighting over it and then it went off. Adam was laying on the living room floor dead."

"What did you do next?"

"I went to the garage and grabbed a blue tarp. I came back in and rolled his body into the tarp. I then took him outside and put him in the trunk of his Mustang. I got everything done before Erika came out of her bedroom. But I knew that she had heard the shots. I found the Benadryl in a kitchen cabinet and mixed it with some orange juice."

"Did she ask about the gunshots?"

"Yeah. I told her that it was a car backfiring outside. I then made her some toast and gave her the Benadryl."

"Did she ask about Adam?"

"She asked me where he had gone. I told her that he'd gone to a friend's house. After she drank the orange juice, she got sleepy. Once she was asleep, I put her in the passenger seat of Adam's car."

"When did you take her to your mother's house? Before or after you dumped Adam's body?"

"Before. I didn't want her to wake up and see me do it."

"Where's Adam's body?" The A.D.A. asked.

"I drove to Newport Beach and dug a hole near a soccer field. I can draw you a map."

Mike sighed, hoping that he could get more specific than that. There was a lot of real estate in Newport Beach. "I'll see about getting some cadaver dogs out there," he said as the A.D.A. nodded. "I want to be notified the moment anybody knows anything."

"Start writing your statement," the A.D.A. shoved a legal pad and a pen in front of Mueller.

"You owe me one more thing, Mueller," Mike reminded him. "Who told you the stuff about my wife?"

"Brinker did," Mueller looked at Mike. "He didn't say how he knew. I figured the stuff about you he could've picked up when you rode together. I don't know how he knew the stuff about your old lady. I never asked, and he never volunteered it."

Mike was shocked, but not surprised. He figured that Brinker had had it in for him after he'd requested a new partner. When he couldn't figure out was why he had dragged Jill into it. While it was true that Jill had never liked him, she'd never gone out of her way to be hateful to him on the few occasions when they'd spoken to one another.

After leaving Mueller, Mike made his way to Capt. Fuller's office and knocked on the door. "Come!" He heard a voice from inside. "Danko, come in. Did the D.A. get what he needs from Mueller?"

"Yes, sir. He's writing his statement out now. I was about to call K-9 and see if we can get some cadaver dogs down to Newport Beach. That's supposedly where Mueller buried Adam's body. I was wondering if I could speak to you about Brinker?"

"What now? Brinker's on leave, effective today. He told me on Friday that he had a bunch of days that he wanted to cash in. He said something about going fishing."

"Never mind then. I'll deal with it when he gets back."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, sir. It can wait."

"Good work closing the case, Danko."

"Thank you, sir."

That night, Mike was sitting on the bathroom counter while Jill was in the shower. "Mueller told me that Brinker was the one who gave him the information about you. Are you sure that you never knew him?"

"Mike, I would've told you if I did!" She called out over the running water.

"Jimmy said that Cleve had two stepbrothers—"

"Bubba and I can't remember the other one's name. The one that I can't remember got married right after Cleve's mother married their old man! Bubba was the one who drove the Corvette!"

"Was he older or younger than Cleve?"

"About the same age, maybe a year or two older. Are you still going to your parents' house on Thursday night?"

"I was planning to. Why?"

"Mary Kathryn wants to go. I promised that she could. Is that okay with you?"

"Yeah. I'm not planning on being over there that long."

"Great. I want to get some decorating done, and I can't do that with her following me around, playing 20 Questions," she stepped out of the shower and smiled when she walked into the towel that Mike was holding out for her. "Thank you."

"Are we still trying to make a baby?" He kissed her neck.

"I thought that was the plan," she sighed when she felt him get hard against her.

Thursday was an awful day. The weather was chilly and rainy with thunderstorms predicted for later in the afternoon and evening. Looking out the back window that afternoon, Jill was wondering if she should re-think letting Mary Kathryn go to her grandparents with her daddy. "Maybe you should stay home with me instead," Jill suggested, as she began to cook dinner.

"Mommy, you promised!" Mary Kathryn whined.

Jill looked at her daughter. The word 'mommy' was rarely a part of her vocabulary. When Jill was referred to as 'mommy,' it usually meant that Mary Kathryn wanted something very badly. She knew how much her daughter loved her grandparents and vice versa. "I know what I promised and what kind of a mommy would I be if I started breaking my promises," she said, smiling when Mary Kathryn rewarded her with a huge smile.

"Thanks, mom! Mamie said that she was making gingerbread for me to bring home. She makes the bestest gingerbread in the whole world!"

"The best gingerbread," Jill corrected her.

"That's what I said. Do I have to share it with Thomas and Natalie?"

"What do you think?"

"Yes," she sighed. "But can I have the biggest piece?"

"We'll discuss that later."

"Can Seven come in? I don't like him being out in the rain," Mary Kathryn looked outside.

"If it rains harder, I will bring him in. I think that I heard the garage door," she watched Mary Kathryn jump off her bar stool and run to the door leading to the garage.

"It is nasty out there," Mike complained, entering the house with Mary Kate under one arm. "Hi, baby," he kissed Jill before putting Mary Kate down on the floor.

"How was your day?"

"Long."

"Are they still scouting Newport Beach?"

"Yeah. They think they have the area narrowed down. Hopefully, we'll find something soon."

"What're you looking for? Is it a pirate's hidden treasure?" Mary Kate asked.

"Not quite, sweetie. Are you going to change clothes before we go to Mamie and Poppy's?"

"I was going to change her clothes after dinner."

After dinner, Jill changed Mary Kathryn into a dress, and tights. "Behave yourself and don't stuff yourself full of Mamie's gingerbread," she instructed her, buttoning her into her raincoat. "Have fun."

"You'll let Seven in, won't you? You said that you would," Mary Kathryn fixed her mother with a stern look. "He doesn't like thunder and lightning."

"Neither do I, so we'll keep each other company," Jill kissed her daughter before standing up and kissing Mike. "Be careful. Call me when you're leaving."

"I will," he smiled, taking Mary Kate by the hand and leading her out to his car in the garage. "I should be home before eight."

Once they left, Jill went to the sliding glass door and looked outside at the black Labrador Retriever. Seven had a perfectly good doghouse, which he refused to use, preferring to lay on top of it, instead. But Jill knew if she let him in, he'd shake rainwater all over the house, making the house smell like wet dog for days. "Go get in your doghouse, Chicken Little," she yelled through the door. In turn, Seven gave her a look that said, 'You come and get in the doghouse and let me come in the people house.' "Some fierce watchdog you are."

At the end of the street, Steve Brinker sat in his car, watching and waiting. He'd been doing surveillance for days now, waiting for the right opportunity. Tonight, it appeared that he'd finally struck pay dirt. He saw Mike's car back out of the garage and head down the street in the opposite direction. "Perfect," he whispered to himself, fingering the .45 Smith and Wesson laying on the seat beside him.

Ryker had called various people and he had requested every bit of information that he could, regarding Cleve Andrews' background, from his birth to his death eight years earlier. Information that included everything about parents, stepparents, etc. The information that he'd requested had finally arrived by courier earlier that evening. It was several pages long, but Ryker read every line with a practiced eye, looking for pertinent bits of information. He stopped when he read the information regarding Andrews' mother.

Ruth-Ann Andrews had married Cleve's father in 1940 and had divorced him 11 years later. They'd had two sons; William, born in 1941 and Cleveland, born in 1944. Ryker sat back and thought about things that Jill had told him. When Jill was 14, Cleve had been 21. He didn't understand why nobody had screamed statutory rape. Cleve had been just shy of his 30th birthday when he'd been shot and killed in 1974.

After divorcing Cleve's father, Ruth-Ann had remarried in 1960. Alarm bells went off in Ryker's head as he continued reading. "Oh my god," he whispered, reading to himself. "Ruth-Ann's second husband, Charles Brinker, was the father of two sons. Charles Jr., also known as CJ, and Steven Wayne, nicknamed Bubba."

Ryker grabbed his raincoat and threw it on before making his way down the path to Trap's small house behind his property. As usual these days, Trap was playing his stupid video game. He turned it off when he heard Ryker pounding on the door. "What's going on?"

"Cleve Andrews had two stepbrothers—"

"Yeah, Bubba and CJ," Trap looked at his boss. "What're you getting at?"

"Mike told me that when Mueller confessed to him, he told him that Brinker had given him the information about him and Jill. He said that the information about Mike could've come as they were riding around together. Mike said that he couldn't figure out what the connection was to Jill. Steve Brinker was one of Andrew's stepbrothers. Only Jill didn't know him as Steve."

"She knew him as Bubba," Trap's face went pale. "We need to call Mike!"

"Do you know something that I don't know, Applegate?"

"My brother told me that Bubba was vowing revenge at Cleve's funeral. He said that the way that he was acting, you would've thought that he was Cleve's blood brother. His old man finally got him to calm down. My brother also told me that Bubba had worked for the Birmingham Police Department, but he transferred out after Cleve was killed. My brother didn't know where he had gone. Bubba was also fixated on Cleve's relationship with Jill. I don't think he ever did anything. Jill would've told me. But I remember him giving Jill the eye when he'd drive by her grandfather's property in his '63 'Vette."

"Jill didn't notice?"

"I don't think so. She was too caught up in the crap that Cleve was shoveling."

"Let's call Danko."

Brinker parked his car a few houses down from the Danko's. Getting out, he knew that Jill wouldn't let him in, especially if Danko wasn't home. That meant he was going to have to find another way in. He knew that the backyard was out because of the dog. Walking around the house, he found a window opened a few inches. Easing the window opened and slithering inside, he discovered that it led to the laundry room. Stepping onto the floor, he could hear music coming from another part of the house.

Jill turned down the music when the phone rang. "Hello?"

"Jill, it's Eddie. Is Mike there?"

"No, he went to his parents' house, but he should be home in a couple of hours. I'll tell him that you called."

"Jill, listen to me carefully. Steve Brinker was one of Cleve's stepbrothers."

"What?"

"You probably knew him better as Bubba. If you see or hear from him, don't call Gillis or Webster. Call 9-1-1. Do you understand me?"

"But Willie and Terry—"

"Call 9-1-1," he repeated. "Don't argue with me about this, Jill. One more thing. Bring Seven into the house."

"Okay, right away. Do you want me to call Mike?"

"No. I'll page him. Is Mary Kate there?"

"No, Mike took her with him."

"Good. Bring Seven in _now_!"

Jill hung up, her whole body shaking, and walked through the dining room to unlock and open the sliding glass door. "If you bring the dog in, I'll put a bullet through his head," she heard a voice to her left. Turning around, she found herself looking into the eyes of her past.

At his parents' house, Mike was laughing at all the boxes his father was bringing down from the attic. "Pop, I don't want or need all of your decorations," he protested when he felt his pager vibrating at his hip. He looked at it, puzzled when he saw Ryker's number lighting up. He wondered why the old man hadn't simply called Jill if he needed something. "I need to take this, Pop. I'll be right back."

Ryker answered on the first ring. "Danko, Steve Brinker was one of Cleve Andrews' stepbrothers. The reason that Jill denied knowing him is because she didn't know him as Steve. She and Trap knew him as Bubba. Trap told me that it seems that old Bubba had the hots for his stepbrother's girlfriend."

"I need to call Jill—"

"I already did. I advised her to call 9-1-1 if she saw or heard from him. I also told her to bring Seven into the house. That way she'll have protection. She told me that Mary Kate is with you."

"Yeah, she's here," Mike felt his father watching him. "Eddie, do me a favor. I know that Willie and Terry are just down the street, but could you go to the house?"

"Danko, they'd get there before I would."

"I know. I'd just feel better knowing that she had all of you there. I'll get to the house as fast as I can," he hung up and immediately dialed the house. "Come on, Jill. Answer the phone."

At the Danko's house, Brinker had motioned Jill into the living room just as the phone started ringing. "Ignore it," he snarled, pointing at the sofa.

"It's probably Mike. If I don't answer, he'll send Willie and Terry over."

"Answer it, but don't try anything stupid."

Taking a deep breath, Jill picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Babe, it's me. Are you all right?"

"I don't like the storm, but I've never liked storms, remember? Mary Kate wanted to sit up and wait for you, but she got so tired that I sent her up to bed. Will you make sure that you tuck her in when you get home?"

Mike closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Jill had company, and this was her way of letting him know that things were far from all right. She knew that Mary Kate was with him, and in their daughter's five years on earth, Jill had never called her anything but 'Mary Kathryn.' "Jill, is Brinker there with you?"

"Yes, I'd like for you to pick up some eggs on the way home. I love you and I'll see you soon."

"He knows that I'm here?" Brinker guessed when Jill hung up the phone. "It'll work out in the end. After we get done with our game, and if I survive, I'll take care of Mike. Maybe even the kid. You know by now that I don't like kids."

"What do you want with me?" Jill asked, thinking to herself that Hell would freeze over before he got near her daughter.

"Do you remember me now?"

"I remember your car. You drove my grandfather crazy with that car."

"I didn't ask about my damn car! I asked you if you remembered _me_!" He waved the gun around, causing Jill to shrink back in terror.

"No, not really," she admitted.

"Cleve and I used to have fights over you. Fucking fist fights in the front yard. _Over you_! But you wouldn't know that. You were so damn cute, Jill. With your huge brown eyes, and long, skinny legs. I wanted to kill him when he told me that he'd gotten your cherry. I wanted to be your first! I had money! I could've taken you to California, or anywhere that you wanted to go! You never would've wanted for anything!"

"Maybe you should've tried harder."

"He told me about being with you in that house. Or he did until the madness took over," he put the gun in the middle of the coffee table. "He told me that you were like a tiger. He also told me about the game that you and he used to play. I was thinking that we could play it now."

"Bubba, Cleve told you his version of events. He told you nothing but lies."

"What're you talking about?"

"You're a police officer, Bubba. You should know that your stepbrother used to brutalize me. Not just once a night, but several times a night. He told you that I was like a tiger? It might've been true, but not for the sick reasons that you and he thought. I was fighting like a tiger to get away from him!"

"He told me once that you could suck a golf ball through a garden hose," he sneered, making a crude reference to oral sex.

Jill could feel bile rising in her throat at the memories of what Cleve would make her do to him every night. Even the thought of performing that same act on her husband after 13 years was still enough to bring up her gag reflex. "Did he also tell you that I bit him?"

"What in the hell would you do a stupid thing like that for?" Brinker asked, his Southern accent returning full force.

"Because I couldn't breathe!" She screamed at him.

After talking to Jill, Mike placed calls to Terry, and then to Willie, explaining what was going on at the house. "Call for backup before you go over there! I'm leaving my parents house right now. Be careful."

When Mike got off the phone, both of his parents were standing there. "Michael, what's going on?" His father asked.

"There might be a problem at home. I'm going to leave Mary Kate here where it's safe. I'll call you when it's safe to bring her home."

"Michael, leave her here for tonight," his mother implored him.

"Okay. Let me go and tell her."

The little girl didn't like it, but she knew not to argue. "Will you and mom call me later?"

"Yes, we will. I love you," he kissed her on the cheek.

"I love you too, daddy."

Terry and Willie carefully approached Mike and Jill's house, weapons holstered, but ready. Terry walked up to the back gate and looked at his former partner. "Give me a boost up," he said, placing his foot in Willie's hand.

When Terry dropped to the ground on the other side, he helped Willie over. Seven came running over, barking an excited greeting. "Seven, quiet!" Terry ordered in a loud whisper, waiting for the dog to stop barking.

Once the dog had quieted, the two men walked up to the sliding glass door, carefully testing it. "It's unlocked," Terry whispered, signing for Willie to follow his lead.

Inside the house, Brinker picked up the S&W and spun the chamber. He then placed the gun in the center of the coffee table, spinning it as if he were playing a twisted version of 'Spin the Bottle.' "You know how this game works, don't you, Jill? Of course you do. Cleve told me that the two of you played it quite often. Ladies first."

"I don't want to play your game, Bubba," Jill whispered fearfully.

"Jill, this is going to work one of two ways. Either you put this gun to your head right now with only one bullet in the chamber, or I'm going to add four more bullets, and you'll really be bucking the odds. How you do this is entirely up to you."

Those were the exact same words Cleve would say to her when he decided that he wanted to play Russian Roulette. At first, the thought of playing had terrified her, but by the end, she found herself wishing that the gun would go off on one of them. Only then would she truly be free.

With shaking hands, she picked up the gun, and pressed it to her temple. It was at that moment that she heard the words that she thought she was imagining. "Freeze, Brinker!"

She opened her eyes to find Terry, Willie, and about a dozen other officers in her living room, with all their guns pointed at Brinker. She wasn't even sure how they'd gotten inside, but she could hear Seven barking loudly at the back door.

"Are you all right?" Terry asked, carefully removing the gun from her still shaking hands. "Read him his rights and get him out of here! We'll stay with Jill."

"Mike called us," Willie explained. "He's on his way home. Are you okay?"

"Jill, what were you doing?" Terry asked.

"He . . . he told me . . . he told me that if I didn't play . . . he'd put four more bullets—"

"Jill, the gun was fully loaded," Terry showed her the chamber.

"What?"

They heard a car screech to a stop outside followed by thunderous footsteps seconds later. Jill didn't say anything when Mike ran into the house and pulled her into his arms. It was only after she was safe in his embrace that she began crying hysterically. Mike looked over her shoulder toward the dining room and saw Seven still barking. "Seven, quiet!" He shouted. "Are you all right?" He asked once the dog had been silenced.

"Mike, we're going to go to the precinct to see about Brinker," Terry said.

"Thanks," he clasped his friends' hands gratefully. Once they had slipped out, he returned his attention to Jill. "My parents are keeping Mary Kate for the night. Mother will take her to school in the morning. Are you okay?" He asked again.

"Just hold me," she begged him.

Moments later, Eddie and Trap came running into the house. "We're okay. It's over," Mike told the two men. "They just took Brinker into custody."

"Wow, you think that you know someone," Trap muttered under his breath.

"I know. I thought that the guy had my back. And it seems that he did, just not in the way that I thought. I can't believe that it took him three years to cook this up," Mike said, not taking his arms from around Jill.

"Danko, take care of her. We'll talk later," Eddie motioned for Trap to follow him.

"Yes, sir."

Mike's heart was still hammering in his chest, but it was nothing compared to the way Jill was shaking in his arms. He hadn't felt her shake this badly since the morning they had rescued her from a deranged maniac, and she had no memory of who he was. "Are you going to the precinct" She choked out.

"No. I'm not going anywhere right now. Terry and Willie can get everything that we need from Brinker. Are you okay?" He asked once again.

"No," she shook her head.

"Did he hurt you?" Mike pulled her back so he could get a better look at her.

"Mike, he . . . he wanted me to play Russian Roulette."

Mike then remembered several weeks earlier when Brinker had asked him if he'd ever seen 'The Deer Hunter.' He also remembered Mueller saying something about the games that Jill used to play. "Jill, why did he want to play Russian Roulette?"

"It's not Russian Roulette when the guns' fully loaded," tears streamed down her face. "Terry told me that the gun was fully loaded."

"Jill, is that the last story? About playing Russian Roulette with Cleve?"

"He got jacked up on coke one night and played it with the bikers. It was one of those rare nights when I was able to slip away from him and go to bed. I was half asleep when he woke me up. I thought that he was going to . . . you know? Again. I didn't want to because he'd been doing coke. Instead, he told me that he had a new game for us to play."

"Oh my god," Mike put his hand to his mouth.

"I didn't want to play. He told me that if I didn't, he'd add more bullets to the gun, and my odds would increase. That's what Bubba . . . Brinker said. Cleve still forced me to have sex every night, but once or twice a week, he'd add Russian Roulette to the mix. Toward the end, Mike, I started praying for the gun to go off. I didn't care who got the bullet. When it didn't happen, I had to resort to other means to end things. You know what I mean?" She put her hands to his face, feeling him rest his forehead against hers.

"Trap told Eddie that his brother told him that Brinker was jealous of you and Cleve."

"Mike, I didn't know Bubba! I knew the car! I don't think that I said 10 words to him, ever! I love you so much, and there are times when I ask myself why you stick around. My life is such a muddled mess, and it never seems to end," she began crying again as Mike pulled her close once more.

"I stick around because I love you. And, like the chaplain said, it's for better or worse. There's been a lot of 'worse,' but there's been a lot of 'better,' too," he smiled before he pulled away once again. "We have a beautiful little girl who we love dearly, and we have amazing friends. It's never going to be perfect, baby. But believe me, I'm not going anywhere. Not until I'm at least 100, and maybe not even then."

"It might be a long night," she warned him.

"I'm prepared for that."

At the precinct, Brinker was taken to an interrogation room where he was cuffed to a battered table across from Terry and Willie. "I understand that you've waived your right to an attorney," Terry looked at him.

"That's right. I even signed the cute little card," Brinker smirked.

"You were partners with Mike for three years. Did you know who he was then?"

"Not right away. I ran into Applegate about a year ago, and he told me that he was working on a ranch in the valley that was owned by Lt. Ryker. I knew that Ryker was the one who killed my brother—"

" _Step_ -brother," Willie corrected him.

"Lt. Ryker was the one who murdered _Cleve_. It didn't take long for me to put two and two together. Do you two know anything about Danko's wife?"

"No. That's the way that Jill and Mike want to keep it," Willie said.

"She was all legs and eyes. Cute as hell," Brinker reminisced.

"She was also 14," Terry reminded him.

"Oh, so you do _know_ that part? Lots of girls in Alabama married young. My mama was 15 when she had my brother. Jailbait don't mean a thing in the south. We liked to pluck 'em young, if you know what I mean."

"So, you wanted her, but Cleve beat you to her?" Terry guessed.

"He came roarin' up one afternoon in his daddy's pickup truck, and got out struttin' like a peacock," both men noticed that Brinker's Southern accent got thicker as he told his tale. "When I asked him what he was so cheerful about, he told me that he'd taken Jill to her granddaddy's barn and made a woman out of her. He started talkin' about how good she was, and shit like that. I aimed to get a piece of her for myself, but then Cleve took off to California and took her with him. For all I know, him and Applegate were probably sharing her."

"Why the revenge thing?" Willie asked.

"When Cleve came back from California without Jill, he started telling me and my brother about the things that they used to do. He told us that gal was the hottest thing he'd ever had, and he would know. He'd been fuckin' girls since he was 13 years old. Gals like what he had to offer if you know what I mean."

Terry couldn't wait for this interview to be over. He felt like he wanted to take a shower in bleach. He'd known Jill for 10 years and he hated listening to her being so degraded and disrespected. He was glad that Mike wasn't having to listen to this. He would've already put Brinker through a wall.

After several more minutes of listening to Brinker, Terry decided that he'd had enough and ordered Brinker be taken to a cell. "Damn, Terry. She was a baby," Willie told his partner after Brinker was taken from the room.

"I've got a feeling that son of a bitch brutalized her the entire time she was in that house. She told me once that he rarely let her out of his sight."

"We've seen the physical scars," Willie reminded him. "The ones on her back and on her legs. Mike told us that he would beat her."

"Let's wrap this up and go home. We can stop and check on Jill."

Back at the house, Mike called his parents. Both he and Jill talked to Mary Kate and told her goodnight. Afterwards, he poured them both brandies before they settled on the sofa together. They were just starting to relax when the doorbell rang, causing Jill to jump. "It's probably the guys," Mike got up and went to the door. He looked through the peephole before unlocking the door and letting them in. "Come on in."

"We just came to check on Jill."

"I'm okay," Jill's voice said the words, but Terry knew that she was far from okay.

"Did he say anything?" Mike asked.

"A bunch of garbage. You can read my report tomorrow," Terry walked over and knelt down in front of Jill. "Do you remember when we talked?" She looked at Mike before she nodded. "I think when you cut your wrists that day, you released yourself from a living hell."

"I think so, too."

"I'll never ask another question, and neither will William. Believe me, we understand it now."

"What did he say to you?"

"It's okay. Get some rest. We'll talk later."

Later that night, Mike lay beside his wife as she slept restlessly beside him. She hadn't had many nightmares since Mary Kate's birth, but something told him that what had happened tonight was going to change that. He'd tried pulling her close, but she'd fought him. Just like she had when they'd first started sleeping together.

He couldn't believe the sick, twisted games that Cleve would play with her in that house. Jill had been a 14-year-old kid who had no idea what kind of adult life she was being dragged into. At 16, Trap's knowledge of the real world hadn't been much better. As he'd told Mike, he insisted on going because he sensed that Cleve was up to no good. The things that Trap had heard had been so hellish that he refused to talk about them. To Mike, or anybody else.

When Mike had walked into that bar in Anniston, Alabama, on that hot August afternoon in 1969, he was met by a 19-year-old woman with incredibly old eyes. She was just a few months away from her 20th birthday and had seen more of life than someone twice her age. It had taken him months to get her to smile, but when he did, that smile left him breathless. For a long time, it seemed that he was the only person who could make her smile. He desperately wanted to see that smile again. The one that was meant only for him.

Jill rolled over and threw her arm across his stomach. "Did I hit you?" Her voice was sleepy in the darkened room.

"Not on purpose," he smiled, hoping that she would smile back.

She sat up, feeling Mike reach over and lightly rub her back. "Are we still going to go away?"

"You said that you wanted to. As soon as they find Mueller's kid, I'll make reservations for after Christmas. We'll take the baby and go to Tahoe. How does that sound?"

"Nice," she finally smiled before moving into his arms. "Do you think that you can do one more thing for me?"

"Sure, baby. Anything," he whispered into her hair.

"Can you make love to me? Please? I need you right now more than anything," she whispered into his neck.

"Baby, you don't even have to ask," he rolled her over into the mattress.

 **A/N #2: One more chapter and this will wrap up.**

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